


To Catch A Pitch

by DiamantNoir



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Sports, And I Mean Slow Burn, Best Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Personal Growth, Rivals to Lovers, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Swearing, coach!Jaehyun, dream are a baseball team with added bonus members, they aren't going to be getting together for a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 78,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamantNoir/pseuds/DiamantNoir
Summary: Ever since he watched the SM High baseball team play at their Championship game, Mark has been desperate to join them. Unfortunately for him, the moment he becomes a freshman, ready to take on the world, he finds out the team’s been cut and there are no plans to revive it.Now, in Mark’s senior year, he’s determined to make a difference. All he needs is nine core players, a coach, and a teacher to help sign all the paperwork.Oh, and he has to win Nationals to keep the team running into the future.But that’s not too hard. Right?
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Huang Ren Jun/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 290
Kudos: 345





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone!  
> This is my newest fic. I'm really excited about it and I hope you all like it!  
> Just to let you know, this will be long. It'll be a chaptered fic with probably way too many chapters than what's actually needed haha It's also a sports AU, which I've definitely never done before.  
> Baseball is something I don't know a great deal about and I know that the tournament styles change depending on where you are in the world. No matter how much research I do, it's so hard to find a singular answer. So, to make things easier on myself, I'm going to play with the system just a little bit. I know that in a lot of places, the games happen over a weekend...I'm going to spread them out a bit. Not to mention, the Korean school year starts in March, which, according to my research, is when the baseball season starts (at least in Western culture?), so I'm going to have it start in April instead. The format of the tournaments is going to be based off the NCAA style. If you don't know what that is, I suggest looking it up, but I'll be explaining it as we go throughout the story. Hopefully, it won't be too confusing. If anything, at least the rules of the actual game will be easy to deal with!  
> There's only one more liberty I had to take in order for this story to make sense. Everyone from Taeil to Jungwoo have been aged up two years. So, just keep that in mind!  
> Anyway, I think that's everything...If I remember something, I'll make sure to note it at the top of a chapter. Tags will adapt as we go, so make sure to keep an eye out for them.  
> Um...yeah...I hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> Oh right! This will be going on a very brief hiatus in November because I'm going to attempt to finish an original novel for Nanowrimo. But I'll get back to it as soon as Nano is done :)

_May 2015_

_“I’m sorry, Jae.”_

Jaehyun grips at the handle of the bat, eyes trained on the game before him. None of the information is actually computing anymore. He sees green and brown and people. He hears the thwack of a ball against wood and the cheer of the crowd. It’s all there, but Jaehyun can’t see it for the life of him and he knows why. God, he knows why.

_“I’m sorry, Jae.”_

Squeezing his eyes shut, he listens to the sounds around him. The harder he listens, the more it sounds like he’s underwater. Which is fitting because he feels like he’s fucking drowning. His chest hurts and he wants to go home. He doesn’t want to be here anymore.

“Jaehyun!”

A hand seizes his shoulder and spins him around. He comes face to face with his coach. Coach Choi’s mouth is moving, but Jaehyun isn’t catching any of the words. All he can focus on is the way his heavy eyebrows draw together in a glare, the darkness of his eyes, and the tightness in his jaw. Coach Choi is handsome, by all means, but angry, he’s intimidating to the max.

Jaehyun should be used to this look, this attitude, but his body isn’t responding the way it normally would. Usually, he’d snap into position, nod, and do his fucking job. Today, he can barely see the forest for the trees.

Coach Choi shakes him and Jaehyun gathers himself for just a second to hear what’s being said to him. “Jaehyun, snap out of it! I need you to focus. You’re our last hitter, bases are full. You know why I’m getting you to do this, right?”

He finds himself nodding. “He’s pitching knuckleballs.”

“Yugyeom is a good cleaner, but two out of three times he can’t hit a knuckleball out of the park. But you,” Coach Choi points at him, right in his face, “you can. You hit that ball and we win, Jaehyun. You hit it and we’re up a point and we have this championship in the palm of our hands. Don’t let your team down, Jaehyun. You got that?”

“Yes, sir,” he croaks.

A shove on his shoulder tells him to get the hell out of the dugout, so he does. He walks over to the mound just as Mingyu bunts the ball and bolts for first base. The rival pitcher is tired, too slow to get to the ball and toss it back to the catcher, and it gives them an advantage. All the bases are loaded. It’s just up to Jaehyun to take them all home.

_“I’m sorry, Jae.”_

His foot catches the ground and he stumbles slightly. The rival catcher snorts, but Jaehyun pays him no mind. He has no time to snap, no time to protect his dignity. Probably because it feels like he has none left.

Tapping the bat against his shoes and then bringing it up over his shoulder, Jaehyun stares out at the field. His teammates watch, legs bent and postures forward, ready to launch themselves to the next base and right into home. The rival pitcher glances up at the sun, tosses the ball into his glove one, two, three times, before positioning himself.

Jaehyun’s fingers grip the bat. He digs his heels in, waiting.

_“I’m sorry, Jae.”_

The ball zooms past him, so fast that he can’t even react.

“Ball!” shouts the umpire.

Jaehyun tenses. How? How did he miss that? Damn it. Fucking hell. He presses his heel into the ground even more, feeling the way the dirt fights him on it. He can’t zone out right now. He has the entire team counting on him.

This time, he sees the ball coming. His mind tries to slow it down as he swings the bat, but he faulters and it never makes contact.

“Strike!”

Damn knuckleball. He should be able to hit this in his sleep. He remembers late nights on the field with their former pitcher trying to hit it. Again and again. If he was supposed to catch it, he should know how to hit it.

All of that will be for nothing if he can’t hit it to win them the Championship game. Out of all of his teammates, Jaehyun is the only one who can hit it nine times out of ten and here he is fumbling each pitch.

Mingyu waves at him from first base and gives him a thumbs up. Jaehyun doesn’t want to be the one to tell him that this might not be the time everything will be okay.

No, he can’t think like that. They’ve worked hard to get where they are. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been Champions for twelve consecutive years. Through Jaehyun’s four years at SM High, he knows just how hard everyone on the team works in order to get that trophy, plus the money for the school. They prepared just as hard this year as they do every year and they’re planning on taking home their thirteenth win.

However, JY Prep has upped their game this season. They’re sitting at a score of nine to eight, with Jaehyun’s team desperate for just one more score in order to keep up. They’re already sitting at a tie; each team having won a game each. His own team has three people on the field, but two are already out from strikes, leaving them one last chance to do something about it. To win.

And it’s all on Jaehyun.

The pitcher winds up and lets the ball fly. Jaehyun misses it by a centimeter and he curses.

“Strike!”

The urge to toss the bat is strong and Jaehyun knows how this is going to end. He’s not in his right mind and there’s so much pressure. Coach Choi is shouting from the dugout, but Jaehyun can’t hear any of the words. It doesn’t matter anyway. He can guess what he’s saying. And none of it is good.

_“I’m sorry, Jae.”_

If he were really sorry, Jaehyun thinks, he wouldn’t have done what he did in the middle of their fucking Championship game. If he was really sorry, he would have done it to Jaehyun’s face. But he didn’t. He called during a timeout and Jaehyun remembers wanting to scream, but not being able to with all of his teammates right behind him, raring to go win.

One last chance. He has one last chance before this whole game goes down the drain. There’s no time for pity, no time for anger. He needs to hit that damn ball out of the park, clear all the bases, and win.

He takes position, bat tight in his hands. The sun beats down on him, hot and unrelenting. Except, as the pitcher winds up, Jaehyun sees _him_ and freezes. He barely has time to make a full swing as the ball flies his way and his bat skims over it. The sound of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt is akin to thunder.

“Strike!”

Jaehyun doesn’t hear anything after that. His heart plummets along with the bat from his hands. It knocks against his leg as it hits the ground. The catcher behind him is up and racing toward the rival pitcher, tackling him into a hug along with the rest of their team. Jaehyun’s own teammates seem stunned, unmoving, like they don’t understand what just happened.

Never, in all of his time as a batter, has he failed to hit a knuckleball so many times in row. Never, in all his time as a baseball player, has he ever let his team down so hard before.

They just lost their Championship game and Jaehyun can’t even bring himself to go apologize to his own team. All he can do is turn around and walk out of the stadium, knowing he just shattered the dreams of twelve other people. Including his own.

_“I’m sorry, Jae.”_

Yeah. He is, too.

*

Up in the stadium, rows back from the front and peering out over the baseball diamond, is thirteen-year-old Lee Mark. The crowd of JY Prep’s team is cheering so loud that it rings in his ears. He doesn’t care about that, though. All he cares about is SM High and their final batter, who drops the bat at home plate and walks off, away from his team, away from their loss.

Gripping the seat in front of him, he turns to his mom and says, “I want to play for them.”

“JY Prep? Honey, they’re a little too much money for us, right now,” she replies as she collects her jacket and her purse. “Not to mention, not even in our city.”

“No, not them.” He points to the SM High dugout where the rest of the team, sans their final batter, are collecting themselves and falling into their loss. “Them.”

Beside him, his older brother snorts. “You want to play for the losing team?”

“Did you not see them all season? They won all their games to the Championship, and they’ve won twelve years in a row. Not to mention, they lost by one point! They were so close,” he says, smiling. “I want to play for them.”

“It’s a little farther than Stone High, honey,” his mother tries to say. He knows that tone. The one that tells him that she wants to turn him down in the calmest way possible. He doesn’t like that tone.

“Mom, please?” he begs, following after her and his brother as they descend the stairs. It requires a lot of dodging of other people. “I can bike there. And it’s a good school. I checked. Please?”

His brother rolls his eyes. “Let him, Mom. I don’t want him bugging me at school.”

It isn’t until they’ve made it to the bottom when his mother turns around to look him right in the eye. “Fine.”

Mark lets out a cheer. It echoes across the stadium.

“But!” she shouts, gaining his attention. “You need to keep your grades up, and I don’t want to hear anything about you being late to school. And, if you go, you better make that team, Lee Minhyung. You hear me?”

The smile on his face is so wide it kind of hurts, but Mark grins, anyway, and promises, “Of course! SM High won’t know what hit them.”

It isn’t until his first day of school, eager to sign up for the team, that Mark finds out that it won’t be running this year. Or the next. Or the one after that.

That Championship loss wasn’t just a game. It was the team’s future.

And Mark is dead set on getting it back.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter one! Geez, I'm so used to writing 30k-70k one-shots that these chapters feel ridiculously short haha  
> Just so everyone knows, this fic will be on hiatus for November since it's Nanowrimo and I'd really like to focus on trying to finish an original novel. After that, I'll be back with more chapters for this :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Happy Halloween, everyone!

_March 2020_

“Hey, Taeil, your friend is back again.”

Glancing over the top of his glasses, Taeil catches sight of a familiar figure marching passed the window that gave all the teachers inside the office a view of the hallway on the other side of the wall. Sighing, Taeil catches the eye of Mr. Lee, three cubicles down, who’s spent most of his morning bugging all the other teachers than doing his own work. It’s a good thing Taeil’s got the skill of selective hearing down pat.

Mr. Lee smirks. “Every year. Like clockwork.”

The door to the teachers’ office clicks open and Taeil has to fight a groan. Because it’s true. Every year. Like clockwork. At this point, Taeil almost feels bad. For four years he’s had to crush the hopes of their very own Student Body President and, after a while, that starts to take a toll on a person.

Uniform pristine, smile genuine, Lee Mark stops at the edge of his desk and says, “Morning, Mr. Moon.”

Oh, this will be so hard, Taeil thinks. Still, he turns back to his computer—just so he doesn’t have to watch that smile slip away—and says, “The answer is still no, Mr. Lee.”

Mark makes a noise in the back of his throat, something akin to a muffled squawk, and hurries to the other end of the desk so he’s right in front of Taeil. “Please, Mr. Moon. It’s my senior year. My last chance. Please?”

Inhaling deeply, Taeil spins his chair and puts all his attention on Mark. The thing is, Mark is a good kid. One of the best. Taeil doesn’t think there’s one teacher in this school who dislikes him. Good attitude, good grades, great potential. He’s student body president, vice-president of the karate club, and he’s also captain of the basketball team this year. And those are just the things he’s kept into his senior year. Over the last four years, he’s gone out of his way to put his name down in as many things as possible, just to have a great resume for university.

There’s really only one flaw Mark hones, and that is: he obsesses. Not always, and not on people per say, but on things he wants. The determination in him skyrockets when there’s something he wants, and he works like crazy to get it.

Unfortunately, there’s not much Taeil can do about this one thing. And it’s somewhat disappointing because Mark really does try his best and it’s sad to not be able to give him a reward for it.

“Mark, we just don’t have the funds,” he says, slightly resigned. Every year. “We wouldn’t even be able to get you to the games, let alone get you new equipment.”

“We can fundraise, and we can use the old equipment for now. It’s still in the storage room,” Mark tells him, leaning over the cubicle wall with his eyes wide and pleading. “Please, Mr. Moon. I’m begging you. Let me start up a baseball team.”

Taeil’s gaze flicks over to Mr. Lee. He’s listening in. They all are. This is like their first day of school ritual at this point and he kind of wonders what will happen when Mark finally leaves high school. What are they going to replace it with?

Disappointed as it may be, Taeil can’t do much about it. Sure, he’s the teacher in charge of the student council. He makes sure all the clubs are running smoothy, getting the funds they need, but a baseball team isn’t going to fit his chart. The reason it was cut was because it funded itself for years. Winning at Championships gave them the cash they needed to keep going into the new year. But after their loss, they didn’t have any left and the school seems to think it was fruitless to keep it running. Even the team lost motivation to play. So, it fell by the way side. Mark’s the only one who showed any interest in reviving it.

It isn’t that Taeil doesn’t think Mark can do it. Mark can do anything he puts his mind to. He’s proven that more than enough times, but rising a baseball team from the dead—and with no money, to boot—is not going to be an easy feat. Taeil’s not sure he wants to put Mark in that position.

When he looks back at Mark, his eyes are so impossibly wide and young and determined. There’s a glint there that shows Taeil that this boy means business.

It’s his final year. Mark doesn’t have any other chances. And if he doesn’t start now, he’s going to miss the start of the tournament next month.

Sighing, Taeil reaches over to the club forms and drags it in front of him. He starts to fill it out, practically feeling the way Mark vibrates with uncontained joy. “You need, at least, nine players and a coach. I wouldn’t ask Coach Choi, though. There’s no way he’ll do it again. You get those things and I’ll consider this club up and running.” He stamps the bottom of the page and signs it. Mark nearly snatches it from his hand, a grin on his face, but Taeil pulls it back. “You fundraise for the buses and you use the old equipment, got it?”

“Got it!” Mark finally manages to claim the paper, eyeing it as if it were the Holy Grail.

“And you need to win Championships to keep the program going,” he adds.

When Mark glances up, there’s understanding in his eyes as the condition settles in. He gives a sharp nod and he says, “You won’t regret this Mr. Moon. I promise.”

Pushing his glasses farther up his nose, Taeil says, “Good luck.”

With a bow, Mark hurries out of the room, paper in hand.

Mr. Lee is at his desk before the door can even close. “Finally gave in, huh?”

Taeil doesn’t bother to respond as he watches Mark race past the window and down the hallway. He just hopes this works out because Mark’s been so set on starting a baseball team since his freshman year. The memory of thirteen-year-old Mark, heartbroken, yet resolute, standing in front of his desk and demanding them to reconsider, is still fresh in his mind. Taeil had been in a teaching placement at that time, barely even a full-fledged member of the school.

Still, he’s watched Mark grow over the years and he has faith. He just hopes his faith is enough to help Mark fulfill his dream.

*

Mark slams the form down on the lunch table, beaming.

From across the table, Jaemin and Jeno blink up at him with twin expressions of surprise, eyes wide and mouths slightly agape. Despite being rather opposite in their ways of being, and even looks, they sure do have similar motions, Mark thinks.

Jeno’s dark hair is a stark contrast to his pale skin, his body just a little more built than Jaemin’s with trained arms and broad shoulders. He’s the opposite side of the coin to Jaemin’s slightly tanner skin and now bleached blond hair that he did only a few weeks ago. Same height as Jeno, and just as strong, but his slender form is unassuming. Opposites, yet they move together, so in sync, even when they openly stare at him, confused.

Then, Jaemin lets his attention fall on the form, taking it in as slowly as possible. Mark can’t sit still, he’s so excited. Part of him wants to pick up the piece of paper and shove it into Jaemin’s face, in the hopes that it’ll make him read faster.

All day, he’s been practically vibrating. He can’t sit still. For years, he’s been begging Mr. Moon to let him start up a baseball team and now, finally, he has proof of its conception. He’s going to build one up and show the school that it wasn’t worth tossing them away so quickly, so mercilessly.

“Do you need to pee?” Jeno asks, eyeing Mark’s bouncing form.

That knocks some happiness points off Mark and he narrows his eyes at Jeno before dropping into the chair across from them. “No, look!”

Jeno joins Jaemin in his inspection, eyebrows furrowing as he reads. Licking his lips, Jaemin glances back up and it’s then that Mark sees that he’s not as excited as Mark hoped him to be. He gently slides the form across the table at Mark.

“Really? You’re still on that?” Jaemin asks. He doesn’t mean it in a rude way—although Mark somewhat takes it that way—but just as a resigned sort of way. To be fair, this is all Mark really talks about. Well, not all the time. Just sometimes. Most times. When he can get away with it and it doesn’t end up with Jaemin telling him to shut up.

“Yes, I am still on this,” Mark replies. “I’ve been wanting this for year and now Mr. Moon is finally giving me a chance. I’m going to take it. I was hoping you’d at least be supportive about it.”

Jeno glances at Jaemin and then back to Mark. “It’s not that we aren’t supportive. It’s just we don’t want you to get your hopes up. The team used to be the one thing this town was actually proud of. Now? Not so much.”

“They used to be the best,” Mark agrees. “But they can be the best again.”

“They were the best until they lost their thirteenth Championship to JY Prep,” Jeno grumbles.

Jaemin shoots him a glare and Jeno presses his lips together. Leaning over the table, Jaemin says, “It was a really big deal, Mark. People don’t like to be reminded about it and most of the kids here don’t care about baseball anymore. It’s soccer, now.”

“Who cares about soccer?” Mark inquires, wrinkling his nose.

“I do,” Jaemin replies. “So does the rest of the student body. You know why? Because they win.”

Rolling his eyes, Mark tucks the form back in his binder. Mostly because Jeno’s started eating again and Mark doesn’t want any food on the one thing that is proof he can start up a team.

As much as he hates to admit it, Jaemin is right. Most people have moved passed baseball, but only because the community sort of made them. When SM High’s team won their first Championship, nearly seventeen years ago, it was amazing, but it wasn’t that amazing. One win didn’t do much. But a second? A third? The community ate that up. Mark’s dad had bought him tickets to National games because people started travelling to see the games, even though it was a high school team. Here, in their small town, they didn’t have much to be proud of. SM High’s baseball team gave them that.

Unfortunately, their loss—especially to a team that hardly ever made it to Championships before—ended that. The high school shut the team down, no longer able to afford it, the students weren’t interested anymore, and the community had just simply given up. Mark saw them lose, but he didn’t want to give up like everyone else. He wanted to help. Make things better.

So, yeah, Jaemin is right. People don’t want to focus on something that sort of kicked their little town off the map once again, but Mark thinks, if they try, they can put it back on. They just need the right team and the right attitude.

“There’s nothing saying that there aren’t some people in this school who would be interest,” Mark says. “We just have to find those people.”

Jeno offers him a small smile, something that feels a little pitiful, but Mark decides not to look at it that way. “You really want to do this, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says with a nod. “I do.”

“Mark, you’re Student Body President,” Jaemin reminds him. “Not to mention karate club and basketball. Do you even have time to start a baseball team?”

“Basketball isn’t until winter and karate is only on Wednesday evenings. I already balance being SBP with them and it’s fine. I’ve been wanting this for years, Nana. Now, I’ve finally just got the go-ahead. I’m going to make the time.”

Jeno frowns in thought. “Don’t you need, like, a whole team?”

“Nine players for a core group. That’ll get us into the tournament,” Mark says. “And I was hoping that you two would sign up?”

The piece of potato between Jeno’s chopsticks drops on to the table and Jaemin’s jaw drops along with it. “I’m sorry, you want us to what now?”

Mark rubs the nape of his neck, sheepishly. “Sign up?” His friends blink at him. There’s a shock of panic through him. “Please, guys? I don’t ask for much and I _need_ players. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Mark,” Jaemin sighs, shaking his head at his food.

Jeno, a little pale, says, “Nope. No. No way—No, Mark. You know I have cheerleading. Those practices are demanding and random. And I promised I would help out more this year with the newer people. Plus, I know nothing about baseball. I’m not a fan of balls flying at my face.”

Beside him, Jaemin snorts. Jeno casts him an unamused look that has Jaemin trying to keep his smile in check.

“I can teach you about baseball,” Mark tells him. “And it’s only Tuesdays and Thursdays for practices. The games are on the weekends. It shouldn’t interfere with cheerleading at all.”

“Except when they call extra practices and people have games on the weekends,” Jeno replies. “I can’t, Mark.”

Jaemin hums. “To be honest, there aren’t a lot of games on the weekends. They’re usually during the week. And the extra practices are really far and few in between.”

“Whose side are you on?” Jeno asks and Jaemin shrugs. Deflating, he pokes at his food. “Fine, I’ll think about it. But I make zero promises. Eunji will be pissed if I mess up any of the practices.”

Instantly, Mark brightens. Okay, so, not quite a yes, but it’s something he can work with. At least Jeno’s kind of on board. He looks to Jaemin, lower lip sticking out in a pout. Jaemin, of course, seems unmoved by the expression and Mark, honestly, shouldn’t be surprised. Out of his friends, Jaemin is the least likely to be suckered by puppy-dog eyes.

“I’ll think about it, too,” he replies, quietly.

“Why do you need to think about it? You have no other obligations.”

“Ever wonder why I have no obligations? Because I like having free time,” he says. “And I don’t like competitions. They’re stressful. I’m more of a watcher than anything and you know that.”

Mark sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Will you at least help me with tryouts? And maybe find a teacher willing to coach?”

“Why not just ask Coach Choi? Wasn’t he the baseball coach before?” suggests Jeno.

Shaking his head, Mark says, “No, Mr. Moon said not to ask him. That he wouldn’t be interested in it.”

“Don’t blame him after Jaehyun blew the whole game.” Jaemin shoots Jeno yet another glare and Jeno shrinks in his seat. “Sorry.”

“It isn’t his fault,” Jaemin says. “It isn’t the teams’ fault, either. JY Prep was just good and it was a bad day. Any other day and they would have wiped the floor with them.”

It’s strange because Mark was pretty sure Jaemin didn’t have much knowledge on the final Championship game. Sure, he knew about it. The whole town did. The second-place trophy still sits in the cabinet with all the first-place ones in the main hall, looking sad and dejected and the epitome of utter defeat. As someone once said ‘second place means the first loser’ and that’s how the school and the town took it.

So, yeah, Jaemin knows about what happened. Yet, something about the way he speaks makes Mark think that maybe he knows a lot more than he lets on. That’s interesting, he thinks.

“I thought you didn’t like baseball,” Mark says, eyeing Jaemin from across the table.

Jaemin shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I don’t know how the last game went. Doesn’t matter. Fine, I’ll help you with tryouts.”

“And you’ll think about joining?”

Sighing, Jaemin nods. “We both will.”

A smile blossoms on Mark’s face and he exclaims, “Thank you!” Grabbing his things, he stands up from the table and adds, “I have to run. I’ll talk to you later. Think about it, okay? It’ll be fun, I promise! See you!”

And with that, he bolts from the cafeteria, through a crowd of girls, who squeal as he makes his way between them, and ignores Jaemin shouting, “What? Mark! You haven’t eaten yet!”

But that doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Because there are so many things to do, so many plans to make, and a sign-up sheet to put up come tomorrow morning. There’s no way he’s letting this opportunity slip through his fingers. Not when he’s finally gotten his chance.

*

He didn’t want to come back. To this small town most people in the city don’t know about. Tucked along the riverside, surrounded by cities that have far more to their name than his hometown. Quiet, unassuming, forgotten. He’d love to forget about it. Unfortunately, it’s a lot harder than he thought it would be. There are still tethers there that keep him from actually moving on. Like his family, or his memories.

Driving into town is like relighting all of those memories and he hates it. He has to keep his hands tight on the wheel to keep himself from making a U-turn and hightailing it out of there. It isn’t that the town, itself, is bad. It isn’t. It’s got everything anyone would need and it tries. Boy, does it try. But it just reminds him of every failure in his life and that’s what makes coming back that much harder.

When he left four years ago, he promised to never come back. He was done. He just wanted out. Now, he’s back and there’s nothing he can do about it. Having school not work out and his job falling through, he had nowhere to go but back home. Well, he could have stayed in Seoul, he supposes, but his mother wouldn’t have that. She wanted him back. So, here he is. Even if he hates it.

The streets are the same, the houses are the same, and even the people. There are some new ones, and probably a few have gone, but they’re all the same kind of small-town people that he knows will never change.

He wonders if they remember him. His name. If they’re going to ask him how he is, give him that disappointing look when he tells them that he not only failed their community, but his life as well.

Gritting his teeth, he pulls into the driveway and just sits there. Unmoving. The white siding and bright red door elicits so many memories that he’s not sure he can keep up with any of them. He remembers moving into this home at fourteen with a new dad and a new brother, eager to start high school, to join a sports team—any one, or all of them, he was never picky, but he sure was an overachiever back then—and to start fresh in his life. That red door used to be the doorway to his comfort. Now, he’s not so sure.

Quietly, he unclicks his seatbelt, grabs his bag, and heads up the pathway to the front door. All his other things can wait until he can wrap his mind around being back. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s back. Not yet. He’d rather feel like a visitor, someone who could walk out if he wanted to. He can’t, but it makes him feel better.

He kicks up the mat, grabs the extra key, and lets himself in. Barely inside, and he spots a familiar figure on the stairs on his way down.

“You’re blond,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

Jaemin blinks, almost as if he can’t decide if this is actually happening or not. “Yeah. I am. What are you doing back?”

Siding off his shoes, he asks, “Mom or dad home?”

“No, they won’t be back for another hour. Jaehyun, what are you doing back?” he repeats, completing his descent down the stairway so he can stand right in front of him. He notices the bag in Jaehyun’s hand and frowns. “Wait, are you _back_ back? What happened at school?”

“Mom didn’t tell you?” he asks as he pushes past Jaemin and starts for the stairs. To his room. Or, well, what used to be his room. “She asked me to come back.”

“But why? I thought you didn’t want to come back here,” Jaemin says.

He follows Jaehyun at his heels, his tone full of worry. At least that hasn’t changed, he notes. Jaemin’s always been a worrier. A calm one, but a worrier nonetheless. He likes to know what’s happening and if something is going wrong because, if something is going wrong, he needs to fix it and he needs to fix it fast.

Jaehyun doesn’t need his little brother to fix his problems. He doesn’t even know if _he_ wants to fix his problems yet. Maybe he just wants to be cranky and bitter and useless for the rest of his life. He’s sure there are a few people who wish that on him after everything.

“Dropped out of school,” he grunts, heading down the hall.

In a flash, Jaemin shoves past him and holds up his hands to block him from going any farther. His eyebrows are drawn together in a frown that shows that he’s both mad and confused, and that’s never a good combination for Na Jaemin.

“What? How? You were in your last year!” he exclaims. “Why the hell would you drop out now?”

“Because it wasn’t working out and I hated it,” Jaehyun offers. “What does it matter? I dropped out, I’m back—Can we move on, please? I don’t want to talk about it. Now, move.”

Jaemin lets him push him to the side and open his bedroom door. He’s not sure what he was expecting. Maybe that things would change. That his mom would have sorted through his things, maybe switch up the place a little. Except, that’s not true. It feels like a shrine. As if she closed the door and just never opened it again.

A little annoying considering the fact that everything is left where it was when he raced out the front door the moment he had a chance. And everything means everything. He eyes the dark red sheets, the gray curtains, the same, wooden furniture that used to get dented every time he tried to practice some kind of sport inside because it was raining. Boy, his mom hated that. None of that matters, though, because his eyes fall on the collection of baseball trophies and ribbons from his little league days, the way his equipment is still strewn across the floor in front of his open closet, and—worst of all—the pictures.

Pictures of the team. Of his high school friends. Of the same face that haunts him four fucking years later because Jaehyun just can’t get a grip over himself no matter how hard he tries.

Dropping his bag at the door, he stomps over to the board above the desk—still covered in books and old homework and university acceptance letters—and rips off the pictures one by one. He tries not to stare too long, to fall into them and the memories they hold. It hurts too much.

“Jaehyun—”

“Nana, why is it still here?” he asks. “I told her to throw this junk out.”

Jaemin hovers on the threshold, uneasy. Probably unsure whether or not he should come in. Not that it matters. He always used to barge in anyway. Only twice did he walk in on things he probably shouldn’t have seen. Still, that never stopped him.

“Mom thought you might regret it, so she kept it. It wasn’t like you were coming back. At least, that’s what you said,” Jaemin replies. “I can get you a box. If you want. We can tuck it all in the attic.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “get me bags. I’m throwing it out.”

Jaemin almost takes a step, but thinks better of it. “Jaehyun—”

“Please, for once, Nana, don’t argue with me. I’m too tired for this shit. Just…get me some bags, please.”

“Okay.”

With him gone, it leaves Jaehyun in the museum of his life. His past life. Life he tried so hard to forget and failed. Fuck, he’s failed everything and he can’t win.

He makes the mistake of glancing down and two familiar, dark eyes stare back at him. The smile is blinding, perfect and pretty, and Jaehyun remembers taking that picture. He remembers the heat of the sun, the thrill of a win, and love. He remembers love.

Then, he remembers pain and sorrow and anger. So much anger. The picture crumbles in his hand and he tosses them all onto the bed, away from him.

Yeah, he thinks, it’s definitely fucking great to be back.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back!  
> Thank you all for waiting. And if you're new, hello! Welcome to my fic!  
> I just wanted to let you know that I'm also working on another fic called, [The Rise of the Wolf King](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868761/chapters/68235265) . It's a Lion King AU. Feel free to check it out if you'd like! I'll be updating it on Thursdays and this one on Tuesdays, unless something drastic happens or something haha
> 
> Anyway, I don't have much to say about this chapter. We're still getting the ball rolling. Don't worry, though. All the characters will come out eventually!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Jeno likes to keep his schedule packed. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings he has cheer practice. Lunches are reserved for Mark and Jaemin. Friday nights are movie night with Jaemin. Saturdays are family dinner, no matter what. Sundays are the day to focus on missed school work. And Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days he uses to practice cheer on his own time, in his backyard, whether his friends drop by or not. Keeping a schedule makes him feel like he has some control over his life. Even if he might just be fibbing himself.

Because, honestly, Jeno definitely has no control over his life.

That’s the only thing he can think as he stands out on the school field, dew soaking into his sneakers, and the sun barely up. Eunji had texted the group chat last night at nine, telling everyone to get their asses on the field for a seven-thirty practice. Jeno had sighed and taken it because, well, like he said, he doesn’t control his life at all. Everyone else does.

Their official practice is tomorrow, before school, but ever since Eunji took over as captain last year, she’s been ridiculously anal about everything and the team’s been pulled along for the ride.

He gets it. He does. Their cheer team is important to the school, has won Championships for over fifteen years in a row. It’s a lot of pressure, a lot of burden. All of which Eunji’s taken onto herself, and then all her frustration out on the team.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. She pushes them, sure. That’s to be expected, Jeno thinks. She’s the captain and she just wants the team to do well. But then she started the sudden, extra practices and the unhelpful, somewhat mean lectures when they can’t get things to match her vision and, now, everyone isn’t sure what to do.

Jeno supposes they could quit the team. Except, it doesn’t feel right. Like most of his teammates, Jeno’s been on the team since he was a freshman. Now on his third year, he kind of doesn’t want to give it up. Cheerleading has becomes the one thing he can do that keeps him active, his skills fresh, and gets his mind off of things he would really rather not be thinking about.

So, here he is, on Tuesday morning, doing the same steps for the last hour. Cheering is great. Jeno likes it, even if it’s lost a bit of the excitement it had when he first started. But he hates the repetition of the same dance moves and lifts just because Eunji is a perfectionist with no concept of keeping her team alive. He’s pretty sure he saw one of the girls nearly faint about ten minutes ago.

The music blasts across the field and Jeno follows it automatically, without much thought, because he knows this. He knows it all. It’s part of his system now. Muscle memory works on overtime as he catches a girl in a cradle and moves to the outer ring. His front handspring happens on the downbeat, ending with him on a knee at the front with his hands out and fingers wiggling just as the music ends.

Eunji, who’s been watching them next to the speakers, shuts off the music. Her hands find her hips and her eyebrows drawn together. Jeno knows that isn’t a good sign. At the sound of her voice, his hands fall to his sides, panting.

“What the fuck was that? You call that cheering?” Eunji snaps. “I already told you, you need to take this seriously. We have a game on Friday, and Regionals to practice for. We can’t be sloppy! And Jeno, what the hell was that? I wanted spirit fingers, not jazz hands.”

“I’ll give her a spirit finger,” Dejun mutters from behind Jeno and he has to bite his lip to keep his face impassive.

“Where the fuck are your heads today?” she continues, not catching the mutterings going on in the back. “Honestly, I better see improvement by tomorrow or all of you are doing burpees until you vomit. Got it?”

She ends the practice with a click of her tongue. Everyone is moving, huddling in together as they whisper about what to do. Jeno doesn’t want anything to do with it. He comes to cheer and if that means having to deal with Eunji being bossy, he can handle that. He’s been in worse situations, he thinks.

He’s at his bag when Dejun and few of the other boys join him, gathering their own things. There are about six of them on the team and only because, despite their collection of trophies, cheerleading is still considered ‘gay’ if a guy does it. Jeno doesn’t get it. Cheer is dancing and acrobatics and literally anyone can do it if they want to. He supposes it’s the actual cheering part that gets the bad rep. Dejun likes to tell whoever gives them trouble—usually another guy from one of the various sports teams—that at least he gets to spend his time surrounded by girls while they only get to undress in front of other guys.

Usually, that shuts them up.

“Does anyone want to tell her that peaking in high school is the worst way to go about life?” Sungmin asks, slugging his bag over his shoulder and glaring at Eunji’s departing figure. All the girls are surrounding her because, well, they know who they need to get in with in order to survive. Even if that means a captain who couldn’t care less about them.

“Does anyone want to tell her she’s a bitch?” shoots back Dejun. “I mean, I get it. There’s pressure. But to take it out on us? We’re trying our fucking hardest and she’s just out there watching us and nitpicking.”

Jeno sighs. “She just wants us at our best.”

“No, she wants us dead, Jeno. That’s what she wants.”

It’s hard to argue with Dejun because he isn’t exactly wrong, but he isn’t completely right either. Still, Jeno prefers to keep things drama and confrontation free, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Dejun, only a year older than Jeno, has been on the team for a total of four years now and he’s been through three captains. Each one with a variant of foibles, as Jeno would like to name them. He’s stuck it through, but Jeno doesn’t exactly know why. Dejun does what he’s told, he’s a good listener, not to mention a good cheerleader. The problem is, he doesn’t exactly seem like he loves it. Not when he gets like this.

And, the thing is, Dejun doesn’t need cheerleading to be popular. Before high school, his family moved over from China. Being a transfer was exciting. On top of that, he’s handsome. Jeno thinks he’s pretty gorgeous with his sharp eyes and strong nose. He could be a model. The girls fawn over him and the guys want to be his friends—well, some of the guys fawn over him, too, if Jeno is being honest. So, clearly, cheerleading isn’t to up his status in any way.

He wonders about asking, every now and again, just to find out what keeps Dejun coming back to practices when he looks like he would rather be anywhere else, but he doesn’t. Because it isn’t his business.

So, with a final goodbye, he jogs off toward the school for a shower before class starts. When he makes it through the back door, Eunji and her friends are there, hovering at the entrances to the changerooms. She spots him almost immediately and waves him over.

With trepidation, he heads over. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Look, I’m going to be blunt with you,” she says. “You’re good, Jeno. Really good. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t notice it. But I need you to learn to focus during the practices. I can see your mind going elsewhere whenever the music is on. This competition is important to me. First year as captain and I can’t have the team losing. So, step up your game, all right? I expect nothing less from you. Got it?”

Fingers tightening on his bag strap, Jeno nods. “Sure,” he says before skirting around her and heading into the boys’ changeroom.

He tries not to let Eunji’s words get him down. It isn’t like he doesn’t try to focus during practice. He does. It’s just that Eunji has them repeat the same thing over and over again and Jeno knows it. He knows it all like the back of his hand, and he dislikes how she’s zoning in on him like this.

Cheering used to be so fun. And it is when he’s by himself. Unfortunately, Eunji’s made it significantly less fun as time has gone by.

He’s grabbing his things for the shower when his phone buzzes. It’s hard to stop a smile from creeping on his lips, the way his heart flickers, as he spots Jaemin’s name pop up on the screen.

 **Nana:**  
_Come save me from Mark and his stupid ideas_  
Please  
I’m begging you

Jeno laughs and types out: _Be there soon_. Snatching up his clothes and a towel, he heads for the stalls.

Okay, so, he doesn’t have much control over his life, try as he might. But at least Jaemin is in it, and that’s all he really needs, in the end.

*

“Mark, this is such a bad idea,” Jaemin sighs, leaning against the wall.

The corkboard is big, filled to the brim with signup sheets and posters for extra curriculars, like the musical that’s being worked on this year. Mark ends up having to give up finding space and simply pins his signup sheet over top of one of the school reminders about the changes in the cafeteria. It isn’t like any of the students read that anyway.

Placing his hands on his hips, he smiles. This is it. This is the start of everything. All he needs is nine players. Surely, there are another six people in their school of approximately a hundred-and-fifty students, who would want to be on the team. There has to be.

“No one is going to sign up,” continues Jaemin.

Mark shoots him a glare. “Way to be supportive, Nana.”

“Look, I’m supportive. I’m here at ass o’clock in the morning, before anyone’s even arrived, to watch you pin a piece of paper to a board. That’s ridiculously supportive. But I’m just trying to be realistic. The chances of finding people are slim.”

“Slim, but not impossible,” he replies. “There are bound to be people interested. Plus, we just need six players. That’s it. That’s not so bad.”

Jaemin rests his head against the wall. “Eight, Mark. Jeno isn’t even sure he wants to and I’m not so sure either. Baseball just isn’t our thing.”

It’s hard to ignore the way Mark’s heart sinks at that. He can’t force them to join. He can’t really force them to do anything, but if he doesn’t have Jeno and Jaemin then holding onto his hope for a team is going to be a lot harder than originally thought. And he wants to do it with them.

“Just be on the team until I have people?” he suggests. “Just to show Mr. Moon that I have somewhat of a thing started. If he finds out it’s just me, he’ll definitely pull the plug before anything’s begun.”

“I don’t know, Mark.”

“Please? Nana, when have I ever asked you for anything?” he asks and Jaemin glances at the floor, refusing to look at him. “I’m not asking for much. I just need a couple of fillers for now. Although, I wish you’d join. I know you and Jeno would enjoy it, and it’s something we could do together, as friends. We never do these kinds of things.”

“That’s because I don’t like sports and Jeno has his cheerleading.” Jaemin shoves his hands into his pockets. “I just…I don’t want you to be disappointed. I know this means a lot to you and, believe it or not, I want it to succeed, but this isn’t going to be easy. People aren’t going to take it seriously. Not with what happened in the past.”

Mark shrugs. “Maybe that’s why we need to try. Prove them wrong.” He juts his chin toward the signup sheet. “Nine people could prove everyone in this town wrong. And don’t you want to be one of those people?”

“Not really?” Jaemin says. Knocking his knuckles against the corkboard, he adds, “And it’s ten people. Don’t forget that you still need a coach.”

“Right,” he sighs.

That might be more difficult than finding the players, to be honest. Asking Coach Choi is completely out of the question. Mark knows why Mr. Moon told him to steer clear. When the team lost, Coach Choi had been the first one to call it quits. The humiliation and disappointment of losing had been a smack to the face and now he spends his time focused on the soccer team. Mark knows that if he asked Coach Choi to come back, he would be laughed at and he would much rather avoid that.

Still, that didn’t leave him with many options. All the other coaches have their own teams and there’s no way they would jump those ships or even take on another sport. Mark knows he doesn’t have many options. That still won’t stop him from asking all his teachers today, however. He only needs one of them to say ‘yes’.

“Do you think Mr. Kim from English would be interested?” he asks, starting down the hall with Jaemin at his side. Students are only just beginning to trickle in through the doors. He hopes that at least six of them will sign the sheet.

“I think if you want to be spat on all day, then you should totally ask him,” Jaemin replies as he types into his phone. Mark catches Jeno’s name at the top of the chatbox. “Your best bets are probably Mr. Lee from Math and Mrs. Bae.”

“Mrs. Bae?”

“Yeah, my science teacher. Jeno’s meeting us.”

Mark hums. They turn the corner making their way toward their lockers. Spotting a tall figure next to his homeroom door, Mark nudges Jaemin. “Hey, it’s Lucas.”

Glancing up from his phone, Jaemin takes in Lucas’ form, clad in their bright yellow uniform with black trim. Then, his eyes flick to Mark and he shakes his head. “Mark, no. You can’t just recruit all your friends for your crazy scheme.”

“What’s the point of having friends if they don’t perform crazy schemes with you?” he questions, raising a brow.

“You’re the Student Body President. You shouldn’t be _doing_ crazy schemes, much less dragging people into them. Honestly, what’s going on with you?”

Taking Jaemin’s wrist and pulling them both to a stop, he says, “I just got what I’ve been asking for since before I was even a freshman. Sure, it’s a little crazy and it’ll be difficult and I’m not looking at an easy time, but I want this, Jaemin. I’ve wanted this for a really long time. I’m not about to let it slip through my fingers again.”

For a moment, Jaemin studies his face. His dark eyes flick about, taking note of every miniscule movement. Mark knows his eyebrows are pinched and his lips pulled tight. He knows, more than Jaemin does, that he looks desperate because, well, he kind of is. This has been a dream of his for nearly five years. Okay, so he has being President under his belt, and he’s captain of the basketball team and vice-captain of the karate team, and he has his fingers in too many pies, perhaps, but it was all to fill in the time he would much rather spend playing baseball.

Jaemin knows how much this means to Mark. He has to. He’s listened to Mark talk about wanting a team, about how he used to play with his father before he passed away when Mark was twelve, how it’s the one thing that would make his high school just that much better. Not once has he tried to hide it. And it’s annoying, he knows it is, but Jaemin listens, anyway, because _he_ knows how important it is to Mark.

A heavy sigh falls from Jaemin’s lips and he rolls his eyes to the ceiling, as if in a silent prayer. “Fine. I’ll be on the team.” Mark lets out a cheer that Jaemin has to yell over as he adds, “But only until you find more players, okay? I’m a sub for now. As soon as you have nine, I’m out. Got it?”

Mark beams until his cheeks hurt. “I’ll take it! Thank you.”

“Thank me later and then remind me to go find my brain because I think I dropped it somewhere back there in the science hall,” he mutters. “Honestly, this is going to be—”

“Great,” Mark cuts in and Jaemin blinks at him. “It will be great. I promise.”

As Jaemin groans, Mark tugs on his wrist and drags him down the hall to where Lucas is propped up against their lockers. The first time Mark met Lucas, in freshman year, he had been intimidated to say the least because Lucas is all height. Long legs, long torso, long fingers. Unlike Mark, who is gangly limbs with only a bit of muscle, Lucas is broad and strong and, yeah, intimidating at first glance.

That is, until Mark got put with him during a drill in the middle of their basketball tryouts and was forced to talk to him. It was then he realized that Lucas was basically an oversized puppy, a Saint Bernard without all the slobber. He gets over-excited and overly competitive. He’s loud and he’s happy and Mark finds that infectious. When Lucas laughs, it’s hard not to laugh, too. Needless to say, they became friends pretty quickly after that.

The moment Lucas glances up from his phone, he grins, flashing them his pearly teeth. It doesn’t take a genius to know why the people of Mark’s school love Lucas. He’s friendly and funny and he’s handsome. Even Mark can’t deny that.

“Yo, dude, what’s up?” Lucas greets, kicking himself off the lockers so Jaemin and Mark can get into them.

Jaemin shakes his head. “Oh, god, don’t ask him that.”

“Why?”

Mark takes out his notebook from his locker and says, “I’m starting a baseball team.”

Eyebrows shooting to his hairline, Lucas inquires, “Wait, what? Why? They let you do that?”

“Valid response,” whispers Jaemin and Mark smacks him upside the head. “Ow, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll be nicer.”

“Thank you. Anyway, yes, they did. Mr. Moon gave me permission.”

Lucas twirls his phone in his hand, thinking. “Don’t you need, like, a team?”

Jaemin snorts.

Closing his locker, Mark says, “Yeah, I do. I need nine players. Well, eight, not including me. And a coach. I put up a signup sheet and, hopefully, we get someone to show up. Speaking of which, any way you’d want to join?”

“Um,” Lucas shuffles, “I can’t? I know you really wanted to do this and I fully support that, but I kind of have my hands full. I have to bring up my grades this year, which is going to take some work. Not to mention, I have basketball. _We_ have basketball. Remember?”

“That doesn’t start until Winter term. Baseball season will be over by then. And we can help you study. Please?”

“Oh, don’t do the puppy-dog eyes, dude.” Lucas covers his face with his hand. “I just can’t.”

Shoulders slumping, Mark nods. “That’s fine. Thought I’d ask.”

“Ask who what?” Jeno appears behind Jaemin, books cradled in his arms. His hair is fluffy, the tips still a bit wet.

Before he can prepare himself—and, honestly, he should have known—Jaemin flings himself around Jeno’s shoulders and cries, “Nono! Save me from Mark. He keeps wanting to make a jock out of me and I have more important things to do.”

“Like what?” Mark scoffs. “Sleeping?”

“Hey,” Jaemin shoves a finger in his face, still slung over poor, red-faced Jeno, “sleeping is pretty damn important. Don’t nock the sleeping. I take my naps very seriously.”

“Nana, jocks aren’t all that bad,” Jeno puts in, softly.

“You’re just saying that because you’re a jock.”

Lucas frowns. “Are cheerleaders jocks? I mean, they should be. They have just as much muscle as most teams, right?”

“I’ll take it,” says Jeno, shrugging. “Anyway, we still going on about Mark’s obsession with balls and having them fly at his face?”

Wrinkling his nose, Mark mutters, “Dude, wording.”

“I thought I did a decent job,” Jeno replies with a wink and Mark really wishes he were closer so he can smack him upside the head, too. He needs new friends.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” says Lucas.

Mark closes his locker, ears warm. Jeno’s supposed to be the nice one of his friends, not the one that tries to hint at past conversations that were meant for his ears only. “You’re missing nothing.”

He tries to ignore the furrow of Lucas’ brow and the way Jaemin raises his. Mark has to be careful because, as much as he loves his friends, there’s a few things he would rather not talk about. And, well, he had opened up a bit to Jeno because he figured Jeno would understand more, and he was the least likely one to talk about it outside of their initial conversation.

Unfortunately, give them a bite and they’ll want the whole thing. He has no doubt that Jaemin will put his perceptive brain to work and try to sus out what’s going on. And Lucas? Well, he doesn’t like being in the dark. He’ll find a moment to try and dig it out of Mark through various ways, but mostly just from asking over and over and over again until Mark finally cracks. Because he will. Because he’s Mark and he does that. Blessed with patience until he just feels bad and gives in.

“You sure you don’t want to join?” Mark asks Lucas, trying to steer the conversation back. “Jeno and Jaemin are joining.”

“Oh, no! I said I would think about it. That’s very different from joining,” says Jeno. “Besides, Eunji is being ridiculous and I doubt I could balance both teams. I’m sorry.”

He purses his lips. “Fine. Then, um, Lucas?”

“Dude, I can’t,” Lucas says, putting out his hands. “I just don’t think I can swing it.”

The disappointment rests on his shoulders, heavy and sad. It’s unfortunate because, really, he wants to be on a team with his friends. They’ve been with him all through high school and to be on a team with them would be thrilling. But he also knows that he can’t keep pushing, so he bites his lip and nods, accepting the defeat.

It’s fine. He’ll find other players, then. Because there _will_ be other players.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Can you guys at least come to tryouts tomorrow after school? Just come hang out for a bit?”

They all exchange glances. Then, Jaemin peels himself off Jeno, nodding. He throws an arm around Mark and pulls him close. “Of course,” he says. “Now, _that’s_ something we can do.”

It’s not exactly what he wants, Mark thinks, but he’ll take it. For now.


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was told to update this story at exactly 2:47 EST, so....I'm doing it. You see, Lala? I told you I would :P
> 
> Basically, we have more Jaehyun on the verge of self-discovery and Mark starting to gain members for the team. Although, he's going to have to train them up a bit! haha  
> I know some people haven't shown up, yet, but they'll arrive in time. I promise!   
> Who would you like to meet/know more about? 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Jaemin can hear Jaehyun moving through the ceiling of the kitchen while he eats his cereal. He wonders if Jaehyun thinks he’s being quiet even though the floors creak and his drawers shut too noisily. Ever since he got back, Jaehyun’s said virtually nothing about what happened at school, has refused to come down for dinners—he’s pretty much refused to see anyone, really. He spends his days camped out in his room. Jaemin leaves for school, the door closed on his way down the stairs, and when he comes back, it’s still closed.

His parents—his dad and Jaehyun’s mom—have both kept quiet about the whole thing, which, honestly, surprises him because he was pretty sure they would flip out after knowing Jaehyun dropped out of school in his last year. Except, they don’t. They simply give Jaehyun a wide berth and say nothing about it.

It’s difficult because Jaemin wants to be supportive, he wants to help his big brother, but he has no idea what’s going through Jaehyun’s mind and Jaehyun is refusing to talk to him. He knows losing the Championship game five years ago did some damage. Not just that, of course. There was that snag that happened in the middle of the game that threw everything off, but losing that game messed up a lot of things for Jaehyun and he has yet to get back to normal.

The door to the bathroom closes. Jaemin sighs. Coming home was probably the last thing on Jaehyun’s mind, even though Jaemin is selfishly glad it happened. After all these years, it’s nice to have Jaehyun back in the house, even if he isn’t quite himself.

And, yeah, he’s thought about telling Jaehyun about Mark’s plan for the baseball team, but it might end up doing more harm than good. Jaehyun hasn’t picked up a bat or watched a game since the loss and Jaemin is pretty sure he wants nothing to do with the game ever again, considering he tossed all his trophies in a bag and then threw them out of his room.

Footsteps on the stairs startle Jaemin and he waits as Jaehyun steps into the room in sweats and a t-shirt, looking like he does every day—like he isn’t going to leave the house if he can help it. Jaehyun makes a beeline for the fridge to grab the juice inside.

“Morning,” Jaemin says, wondering if he’ll actually get a response this time.

He does, in the form of a grunt. Jaehyun fills a glass, puts the juice back into the fridge and starts for the door. Then, he stops and glances at Jaemin as if he’s just realized he’s there. “Don’t you have school?”

“Yeah,” he replies as he stands up to put his bowl in the sink. “I’m leaving, now. Got any plans for today?”

Shrugging, Jaehyun says, “Who the hell knows. Might just go back to bed.”

“Really? Jae, you need to do something. You can’t just stay in your room.”

“I got home two days ago. Give me a break,” Jaehyun says. “It isn’t like I need to be anywhere.”

“Why don’t you find somewhere? Go for a jog, go see a movie. I don’t know. But do something.”

Jaehyun clicks his tongue. “God, you sound like mom.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment. She’s got her shit together.” Slipping past Jaehyun to head to the front door where his bag and shoes are waiting, he adds, “You should check out the new gym by the museum. It opened a couple of years ago. Go there and work out some steam or something.”

“I don’t have steam to work out.”

Popping on his shoes and swinging his bag over his shoulder, Jaemin turns to face Jaehyun with a frown. “I don’t care if you lie to other people, but don’t lie to me. If anyone has steam work out, it’s you. I get that things have been hard, I really do, but you need to snap out of it and get on with your life.”

“Jaemin, don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” Jaehyun says, tone dropping.

Gritting his teeth, Jaemin drops his eyes to his shoes. “I just want my brother back. You’ve been nothing but a shell since that loss. I thought moving away was supposed to help, but apparently not.”

“Jaemin,” he warns.

“Whatever,” mutters Jaemin as he turns to open the door. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

He leaves Jaehyun standing in the kitchen doorway and starts his way to school.

“ _Don’t talk about things you don’t understand_ ,” he mocks, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. “I’d understand if you’d just fucking tell me.”

Jaemin knows why Jaehyun was so out of it when he lost the Championship game. He knows that after that, Jaehyun wasn’t scouted like he was planning to be, that he had to pick his second option of university, that things in the big city were a lot harder than Jaehyun had anticipated. Jaemin knows that, so he doesn’t understand why Jaehyun seems to think he doesn’t get it.

And maybe it’s simply because Jaemin has never gone through it. But even if he hasn’t, he can still sympathize. Jaehyun can’t walk around like a self-pitying zombie for another five years. Jaemin’s not going to allow that to happen because that’s just pathetic and Jaehyun is anything but pathetic. At least, he wasn’t.

He had been the coolest big brother. Popular, kind, attentive. He taught Jaemin how to ride a bike because he had never had a chance to learn. He would help Jaemin with his homework, give him advice when he needed it. Jaemin misses that. He misses having that connection and he hopes that Jaehyun does too because, somehow, he has to get out from whatever black cloud is floating over his head.

Shaking his head, he speeds up. In the end, it’s up to Jaehyun and whether or not he wants to get his life cleaned up. Until then, there isn’t much Jaemin can do about it. So, he makes his way to school, trying desperately not to think about it.

Once inside, he seeks out Mark in the student council room. If Mark is anything, it’s predictable and dedicated. Despite his ridiculous idea to get a baseball team in the works, he still works his hardest at all his other commitments. Finding him at the front table in the council room with a pile of paper, pen in hand, and his glasses slipping off his nose, is such a normal sight.

“What’cha working on?” he asks, plopping himself down in the chair next to Mark and successfully startling him.

Mark jumps, his pen going flying and the papers scattering slightly across the table. He slams his arms down on them to keep them from falling to the floor. “Damn it, Nana, really?”

He offers a smile, all sweetness and mock-apology, and says, “Sorry! So, what are you doing?”

Getting up to grab his pen, Mark says, “Just event planning. Setting up dances and marking down tournament days for all the teams. Boring stuff.”

“It’s a good thing you love it then, huh?”

Mark takes his seat and starts shuffling all the papers. “I don’t love it, particularly. I just don’t mind it. Someone has to do it. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just,” he shrugs, “bored, I guess.”

Jaemin considers telling Mark about Jaehyun. He does. The thing is, Mark has no idea that Jaehyun, the boy that lost the Championships and subsequently made Mark want to come to SM High in the first place, is Jaemin’s step-brother.

They met when Jaemin was a freshman, so Mark’s never had to make the connection, never had to meet Jaehyun, who was already out of the house by then. It helps that Mark’s never been to Jaemin’s either. They always go to Jeno’s or Mark’s or somewhere else.

Telling Mark wouldn’t be a bad thing, he thinks. He doubts it would be horrible. But Mark, in a weird way, idolizes Jaehyun and, at first, it was just awkward to mention the connection, at all. Now, Jaemin’s just sort of used to not mentioning it. The only person who knows is Jeno and that’s because they’ve been friends since they were in diapers.

In the end, he decides it isn’t worth getting into. He needs to move past this morning and focus on the rest of the day.

For a moment, Mark studies Jaemin’s face and Jaemin stares right back, unblinkingly. Slowly, Mark’s eyebrows draw together. “You sure you’re okay?”

Contrary to popular belief, Mark isn’t completely oblivious. He has a brain in there and he can use it quite well. Of course, only when he feels the need to. Put a girl in front of him and have her confess and Mark will still not understand that she likes him. But when it comes to Jaemin and Jeno, Mark is on high-alert a lot of the time. He knows when things are off. Sometimes, Jaemin is glad for it. Other times, he would rather Mark just not notice at all.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Just a rough morning.”

Mark nods, eyes still set on Jaemin. “Just let me know if you need to talk, yeah?”

And while he would rather Mark not notice, at all, it still warms his heart to know he has good friends. He pushes on Mark’s shoulder, playfully, with a smile. “Of course.”

“Good. You still coming to tryouts after school, right?” he asks as he gathers up all the papers and begins putting them into a binder.

Jaemin sighs. The idea of running around, chasing down a ball, is not as thrilling to him as it seems to be to Mark. He’d much rather be on the sidelines. Or, better yet, at home. On his couch. Watching a movie until his brain turns to mush.

Still, he gave his word. He will stick it out until Mark finds a member to replace him and then he’ll get his cozy time back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” He watches as Mark collects up his things. A small, thin book catches his attention. “This yours?” he asks as he drags it closer to find out it’s a baseball manual.

Mark glances up from his bag. “Oh, yeah. I was reading it over again.”

“Why? You probably know it all off by heart anyway.”

Cheeks a bit pink, Mark says, “Not all of it. Besides, that’s the high school manual. It talks about what’s needed for the tournaments and everything. A little bit different from professional leagues.”

Jaemin flips it open, leafing through the pages. He catches sight of some pictures and a whole lot of words. It doesn’t seem all that interesting, but he finds himself asking, “Do you mind if I borrow it?”

Mark blinks, a little stunned. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course. Go right ahead.”

“Thanks.”

He opens it up to the first page—the table of contents—and scans the words. Jaehyun was the one that did all the sports, knew all the rules. Jaemin tried, but it was never his forte, so he gave it up. He’s never really tried to understand a sport, especially baseball. Now, his curiosity peaks as he turns the page.

Well, if he’s going to have to play until he can finally leave, he might as well at least try to understand it. If only just for Mark.

*

Jaehyun shouldn’t have expected it to be hard to find the new gym Jaemin had been talking about this morning. The town is too small to really miss something like that. So, when he googles it, the place comes up pretty fast.

For most of the morning, he spends his time waffling between staying in bed and going outside. He knows, deep down, that Jaemin is right. He does have to start living again, but, god, it’s not easy. For the past five years, it’s felt like he’s been living underwater. Nothing is clean-cut, nothing goes easily, and the more things that go wrong, the more he just sort of wants to give up and hole himself away.

Hence the last couple of days.

Still, he can’t be like this forever, and distracting himself with school obviously did nothing, so he’s going to need a new plan.

That’s how he ends up outside of Kick It, which opened up a year after he left. It’s squished between a hobby shop and a pawnery. Clearly, it had been repainted when it was purchased because he definitely doesn’t remember the black trims and neon orange sign. It looks fresh and new still, something that shouldn’t be downtown of a town where practically everyone knows each other’s names.

Jaehyun eyes it for a moment, contemplating on going in or not. He doesn’t need to go in. He doubts it’ll do much for him, at this point. Still, he spots a girl at a punching bag and a guy working on weighs and part of him yearns to open the door. Fuck, he hasn’t been in a gym in ages. Not one like this.

When he went off to university, he continued to jog, but that was it. All the extra effort he went to in exercising ended after he gave up sports. And, in a way, he does miss it. He just never thought it was worth doing after quitting.

Now, however, he stands outside the door to the gym and decides that he should at least go inside. He can always leave. That’s an option.

He takes a tentative step inside, letting the smell of sweat and rubber hit his nose. Gyms, he decides, will never smell good, but, damn it, do they call to him. He lets his eyes wander the place. Past the row of punching bags, the stacks of weights, the boxing ring in the far back.

“Finally decided to come in?” a voice asks, causing him to turn to the side. Sitting at the desk, is a man about Jaehyun’s age. His dark blue hair nearly brushes the lashes of his cat-like eyes. Jaehyun watches as the man gives him a once over and sticks a green lollipop into his mouth. An impassive expression sits on his features. “What? You cool, dude?”

Jaehyun nods. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” He gestures to the place. “Just, um, checking things out.”

The man raises a brow. “Feel free. But if you want to use the equipment, there’s a fee.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll, uh, let you know.” With one last look at the man—scanning for a nametag, which he finds and memorizes the name Yuta—Jaehyun starts farther into the place.

There’s music playing from somewhere. Soft, hardly all that noticeable, but Jaehyun catches the quick trills as he makes his way toward the boxing ring. Inside, there’s a girl and a trainer. She works quick and easy and they talk as if they’re old friends. They probably are, Jaehyun thinks. Everyone knows everyone in this godforsaken town.

Veering off from the ring, he finds the punching bags. Jaemin’s voice fills his mind, telling him to work out his steam. Whatever steam he has. Although, right now, he just feels too tired to have any steam or frustration or stress to work out.

“You just going to stare at it all day?”

Jaehyun twists around with a, “Thought about it,” on his lips.

The man behind him raises a brow. He’s taller than Jaehyun. Broader, too. And when he crosses his arms his muscles bulge. With his dark hair swept back from his face, Jaehyun can spot the wide nose and strong jaw.

“I’m Johnny,” he introduces with a slight smile. “I own the place. You look new. You new?”

“To the gym or to the town?”

“Either or both?”

Shaking his head, Jaehyun says, “To the gym, but not to the town. I just moved back.”

“You moved here? Out of all the places you could have gone?” The laugh he gets is boisterous. “Well, welcome back, I guess.”

Jaehyun scans the man from his trainers to the top of his head. He doesn’t look familiar at all. “And you? My brother says this place opened up a few years ago. Did you live here before or…?”

“Nah, picked this place because I figured it would be the last place my parents looked for me,” Johnny replies. “Turns out I was right because they still haven’t found me. My brother did, though. Tricky little imp.”

“You ran away to open up a gym?” Jaehyun finds himself questioning before he can stop himself.

“You managed to leave and then chose to move back to buttfuck nowhere, so I think we’re both pretty stupid, don’t you think?”

Well, Jaehyun can’t argue with that. He gazes around the place. It’s a nice set up. It’s so much nicer than all the other, older places around town. Everything is so historical that people fear to ruin it. Johnny’s certainly brought a city vibe into a small town. He wonders if he ever got any backlash from it. Probably. The old folks on the city council can be menaces if he remembers correctly.

“So, you going to stick around and actually use the equipment? Or are you just going to stare at it?” asks Johnny, gesturing to the punching bags. “Because, like, you look like you could use some adrenaline in your system.”

Adrenaline. Jaehyun doesn’t even really remember what that feels like. Life has been such a blur since he lost Championships and, sure, he jogged, but that did nothing. It didn’t get his heart going. It didn’t give him a jolt of competition or the anticipation of winning. Nothing.

“I don’t think so,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t really be here.”

“Says who?”

Jaehyun blinks. “Um, me?”

“Why?”

Frowning, he says, “You ask too many questions.”

“And you don’t really answer them. Seems like we’re at an impasse.” Johnny steps around to grab a pair of gloves hanging on the wall. Jaehyun catches them when they come flying at his face. “Here. You box before?”

“Yeah,” he answers, albeit a little dubiously. “Why?”

“Just trying to figure how much coaching you’re going to need.” Johnny studies him, from his arms to his legs to his shoulders. “Good build. You did sports before, obviously. I doubt you’ll need much guidance. Still, I would wager you haven’t done a serious work out in ages.”

Jaehyun says, “Not really, but I’m also not planning to do it again.” He tries to hand the gloves back. “But thank you, anyway.”

“Look, man,” Johnny replies as he steps back, keeping his distance from the gloves in Jaehyun’s grasp, “you stood outside for about twenty minutes and when you finally came in, you looked like this was Wonderland. You looked longingly at a punching bag. You clearly want to do this. So, do it.”

“I haven’t paid,” he points out.

Johnny waves a hand at him. “I’m the owner and I’m giving you a free day. Use it. If you hate it, you don’t have to come back. But I’m willing to bet that you will.”

“I don’t have a change of clothes.”

“You’re making up stupid excuses. You know that, right?”

Slowly, Jaehyun draws his hand back, staring down at the gloves. It wouldn’t hurt, part of him thinks, to stay and try it. Sure, he’s in street clothes. Sure, he hasn’t worked out in a while. Even still, he wants to. He wants to do it and Johnny is prompting him and Jaehyun can’t really find a flaw in the plan, at all.

Sighing, he shoves his hands into the gloves. “Fine,” he says, “I’ll do it.”

A smile stretches across Johnny’s lips. “Good.” Leaning around Jaehyun, he shouts, “Hey, Yuta! Ready another membership, would you?” He winks at Jaehyun. “Let’s see what you’ve got, kid.”

The sound his fist makes when he finally punches the bag lights his insides on fire and, fucking damn it, if it doesn’t feel good.

*

Mark releases a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping. In his hand is the signup sheet and scrolled on the top two lines are two names. When he first saw it, he shoved the page into Jaemin’s face with a shout of “I told you!”. It meant that maybe, just maybe, he could do this.

Now, twenty minutes after the final bell has rung, sitting on the bleachers with Jaemin and Jeno, Mark has come to realize that maybe this isn’t going to work because no one has shown up.

Students are disappearing out of the front and back doors of the school. The buses are leaving, the cars are rolling away, and the two people who signed up have completely ditched him. To say it hurts would be an understatement.

“Maybe they just forgot?” Jeno offers.

Mark appreciates it, but he knows that isn’t true. He made it just to put down the meeting time and date at the top of the page. No, it’s just that no one is coming.

He folds up the piece of paper and shoves it into his bag. “Come on, let’s just go.”

From beside him, Jaemin shoots him a look. His eyebrows curl up, the corner of his lips downturned. He feels guilty, Mark notes. Not that he should. Out of all of them, Jaemin is the most realistic of them all. He catches things no one else does, he sees the world for what it is. Unlike Mark, who, often enough, views things with rose-tinted glasses when he gets too caught up.

Maybe he should start to think more like Jaemin. There would be less disappointment that way.

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin says as Mark stands up and starts to makes his way down the bleachers. “I know you really wanted this to work out.”

He stops at the bottom and forces a smile. He knows he isn’t fooling either of them, but he does it anyway. “It’s fine. You were right. It was silly to think this would happen.”

“I wanted it to. For you.”

“I know, and thank you.” He shrugs. “It’s just too bad that it’s over before it really got a chance to go anywhere. I was really excited, you know? The tournaments are always so much fun. I remember going to them with my dad and the teams were amazing. I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be cool to be one of the top teams? To go head-to-head with them?’. But I guess that will just be a dream, hm?”

Jeno frowns. “Do you have to quit now? Can’t you wait a little longer and see what happens? Mr. Moon isn’t going to stop you right away, is he?”

“It isn’t like it matters, though. Clearly, no one is actually interested in it.” Mark digs the toe of his shoe into the dirt. “It’s fine. I’ll just tell him in the morning that no one signed up and that’s that.”

From their spots on the bleachers, Jaemin and Jeno exchange glances. Something passes between them that Mark can’t put his finger on. He never can. While he may be their best friend, he still hasn’t managed to break through that particular wall those two share.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, slaps his knees, and stands up. The sun hits his eyes and they nearly glow with some kind of new-found determination. “Fine. I’m on the team.”

“I guess I am, too,” Jeno says, with a little less fire. “Although, Eunji is going to kill me and then you’ll have one less player. Still, for now, you’ve got me.”

Mark coughs a laugh, a little bit humorless, a little disbelieving. “You guys don’t need to do this. I know you don’t want to, and it’s fine. I’m not going to force you to do it.”

“Look, don’t get me wrong,” Jaemin says as he hops down the bleachers to where Mark is, “I still think sports are kind of pointless. But,” he pokes Mark in the shoulder, “you’re my friend and you want this, so I’m going to be a good best friend and join. You want players, you’ve got two now.”

“It’s a start,” Jeno adds.

A smile spreads across his face as he glances between the two of them. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

“Oh, please, don’t start getting emotional,” Jaemin says. “Jeno is a sensitive soul and we don’t want him to cry.”

Jeno squawks. “I am not!”

Jaemin goes to respond, probably to tease him some more, but then his eye catches something over Mark’s shoulder and he frowns. “Isn’t that Lucas? Who is that with him?”

Sure enough, a tall figure is crossing the field toward them with three others in tow. Mark reaches out to grab Jaemin’s wrist. As they draw closer, Mark gets a moment to catalogue the people following Lucas. They look young, younger than Mark, anyway. One of them is tall and willowy, not yet grown into his limbs. Another has green hair, which clashes with his uniform and probably got him into trouble with school regulations. He smiles as he walks, glancing over to the willowy boy to say something that elicits a small smile from him. And the last bounces behind Lucas, like a puppy with too much energy. He waves at Mark, Jaemin, and Jeno with an extra wide grin.

Lucas comes to a stop. “Hey, dude. Sorry I’m late. I ran into these guys,” he points to the green-haired boy and the willowy one, “on the way. They forgot where to meet up. And YangYang was just late because he’s a brat.”

“Hey! I told you I had to talk to my teacher,” YangYang says, broad smile falling. “Pretty valid excuse.”

Mark runs his eyes over them all. “Lucas, what is this?”

“This,” Lucas says as he throws an arm around YangYang, “are your new recruits, my friend. Meet YangYang, Chenle, and Jisung.”

Something clicks in Mark’s head. “Oh, you’re the two that signed up.”

Chenle nods. “Yeah, sorry about being late. We forgot whether it was the field or the gym to meet. Lucas overheard us.”

“I’m such a good upperclassman,” Lucas says with a smile and Mark laughs. “Anyway, you’ve got three.”

“Five,” Jaemin corrects. “Jeno and I decided to join him. He needs as many as he can get at this point if he wants to keep this up.”

“I thought you didn’t want to join?”

Shrugging, Jaemin says, “Didn’t really want to. Still kind of don’t. But it’s important to Mark and I’m a sucker for making my friends happy.”

“Depending on the day,” Mark mutters and Jaemin pinches his side, making him hiss.

Jeno jumps down from the bleachers to stand on Mark’s other side. “Well, that’s six, in total. Only three more and a coach and you’ll be all set.”

Glancing at the new comers, Mark clears his throat. “So, uh, welcome. I’m Mark, senior. This is Jaemin and Jeno, Juniors.”

YangYang points to himself. “Junior.”

“Sophomore,” Chenle adds, brightly. Then, he points to Jisung, “Freshman.”

“Have any of you played before?” Mark finds himself asking. He doesn’t want to assume. It’s possible that they have. Although, with baseball it can be hard to tell. The muscle mass for it isn’t something to write home about and even the thinnest players—someone like Jisung, all limbs and no bulk—can be amazing on the diamond.

And it isn’t like it will matter. Well, it will matter a bit. With no coach, especially. Mark’s been playing baseball for years, albeit not as much as he would like to admit in the last couple of years, so he has some skills under his belt. But he’s no coach, and teaching five new players how to play would be a whirlwind.

Jisung shakes his head while Chenle says, “I have. Little league. But not much else. Figured this was a good way to get back into it.”

“I tried,” YangYang puts in, gaining Mark’s attention. “Sports teams don’t really like me.”

Raising a brow, Jaemin asks, almost hesitantly, “Why?”

“YangYang is a little,” Lucas frowns, clamping a hand down on YangYang’s shoulder and effectively stopping the bouncing, “chaotic? No, that’s not the right word…”

“Energetic?” offers Jeno.

He snaps his fingers. “Yes! That’s it. YangYang just tends to have too much energy for a team. But he’s good, Mark. I’m sure you can whip him into shape. And he’s been wanting to join a sport since he got here.”

Now, he isn’t as perceptive as Jaemin is. He can’t spot secrets before they come out, or realize people’s feelings before they express them, but he can see potential. That’s something he takes a little pride in. There’s something in the way people approach things, the way they gravitate toward things, that Mark can spot from a mile away.

For example, Jisung doesn’t seem to talk much. He keeps just an inch behind Chenle the whole conversation. And he watches. His dark eyes flit from speaker to speaker. Mark is willing to bet that he’s just as observant as Jaemin is, that he can see things most people wouldn’t pay attention to. He’s tall, lanky, but he holds himself like he at least somewhat knows what to do with all the extra body. Comfortable in his skin, but not so much in a group setting.

And even if he hasn’t played before, that makes Mark’s job just that much easier. That just means he doesn’t have any bad habits to iron out. He’s a completely blank slate. As long as he’s dedicated and wants to learn, Mark doesn’t think he will have much of a problem with Jisung.

Chenle, on the other hand, has played before. Not a bad thing, but it does mean that he could have ways of going about things that he shouldn’t. Especially since little league is often times a tad more lenient than other leagues. Still, Chenle smiles and he listens and it’s like he’s already found a place that he can settle into without much issue at all. Mark thinks he’ll get along on a team. Their team.

Then, there’s YangYang. Vibrating with energy, but earnest. Mark trusts Lucas. He doesn’t think Lucas would have brought him YangYang if he didn’t think it would work out. So, Mark might have his hands full and, yet, it doesn’t feel like a burden, at all. In fact, excitement curls in his stomach as he eyes the three boys.

“What do you think, Mark?” Jeno asks, nudging Mark’s side with his elbow.

“I think,” Mark says, “we may have some hope after all.”

Lucas beams. “See, I knew it wasn’t so bad. You’ve got this, bro.”

Laughing, Mark accepts the fist-bump. When he turns to Jisung, Chenle, and YangYang, he says, “So, this is sort of just a meet up. There really isn’t much of a tryout since we don’t have a coach yet and we’re kind of desperate for players. But, um, I thought we could have practices Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. Work for you?” They all nod. “Awesome. Um, so, any questions?”

“Are you, like, the captain then?” Chenle asks, looking from Mark to Jeno and then to Jaemin and back.

Mark glances toward his friends, who shrug. “I suppose so? For now, anyway.”

“What position do you play?”

Jisung, for the first time, speaks up, his eyebrows drawing together. “Positions?”

“Yeah, baseball usually has positions people fall into. They can change, of course, but for most games you are what you are,” Mark explains. “I’ve played Catcher the most, so I guess that’s what I’ll be on the team. You?”

Chenle shakes his head. “I don’t really have one. I’ve only ever done Baseman.”

“That’s fine. We can work those out when we get closer to the tournament. For now, we probably should just focus on the rules and getting people up to speed. I know Jeno’s going to need some work.”

Beside him, Jeno crosses his arms. “Wow, thanks.”

“What?” Mark asks, raising a brow. “You’re scared of the ball.” He lowers his voice to add, “Which is somewhat ironic for you, don’t you think?”

He watches the way Jeno’s jaw tightens and his eyes flick over Mark’s shoulder to Jaemin just briefly. He mutters a, “Don’t be an ass.”

“You started it. Yesterday, remember?”

“What are you mumbling about?” asks Jaemin, cutting off Jeno’s response. “I thought we were talking about baseball.”

Mark straightens. “We are. Look, to be honest, we need at least nine players. And a coach. If we don’t get those soon, I don’t think Mr. Moon will let us keep this going. Until then, however, we should focus in on what we do and don’t know. We can go from there.”

Together, Chenle, YangYang, and Jisung move toward the bleachers to sit down and Jaemin tugs Jeno by the wrist to join them. Mark glances back at Lucas, who has yet to move.

“You sure you don’t want to join?”

Shifting on his feet, Lucas eyes the collection of boys on the bleachers and shakes his head. “I really shouldn’t. I need to focus on my grades.”

“You know, we share most of our classes this semester. I could just tutor you,” he offers.

Lucas’ gaze snaps to him. “Wait, actually?”

“Yeah, dude. What are friends for? No way am I going to let you fail. I need my ace player for basketball. And I need another one for baseball.”

A laugh escapes Lucas. “Smooth. Very smooth.”

Mark smiles. “Well, I _am_ a bit desperate if you haven’t noticed.”

“And what about the last few players you need?”

Shrugging, he glances over to where Jaemin has Mark’s baseball manual out and showing something to all of the boys crowded around him. Chenle eagerly points at something on the page. He uses his hands when he talks, wide and untamed. There’s energy in him, too, Mark notes. A little more contained than YangYang, yet still very close to the surface.

“I can get them,” Mark states and, for once, he really believes himself. “Two more players? I can get them.”

Gripping Mark’s shoulder with a large hand, Lucas says, “Well, let’s hope you do because seven players isn’t going to get you very far.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll make it work.”

And he will. Because he has to.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday!   
> I hope you're all staying safe and sound wherever you are :)  
> We're slowly making process on this haha Mark and Jaemin are coming up with lots of ideas, and our little ragtag crew is finally coming together. They're still in need of some people, but in a few more chapters we'll get to see how that works out for them :P
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

SM High does have a baseball diamond. It’s just hidden in the back corner behind the tennis courts and the bleachers that aim toward the field used for football and soccer and anything else that needs a stupidly large area to work on. It’s also not the prettiest as Mark comes to find out.

He gets it. Well, sort of, anyway. The school hasn’t had a team in just over four years. No one has really had a need for a baseball diamond, let alone the student body of SM High. Mark’s pretty sure that they have gone out of their way to not use it because, remembering back to freshman year when he had to do the baseball unit in gym class, they did it in the gym. Even when a perfectly functioning diamond was right outside the door.

Well, okay, ‘perfectly functioning’ might be a tad bit of an overstatement.

“This place is a dump,” Jaemin says and Mark can’t help but agree.

The lines are practically gone, the bases missing, and the dugout—Yeah, he doesn’t even want to go in there. Grass has started to grow where it shouldn’t and everything about it feels abandoned and dark and Mark realizes that cleaning this place up is going to be a lot more work than the actual practices.

His first official practice and he doesn’t really have a place to do it in.

Sighing, he sets his backpack and the mesh bag of baseball gloves down before starting toward the center of the diamond. “It isn’t so bad. We can make it work.”

“Your optimism astounds me,” Jaemin quips, but he follows, anyway. In his hands are a couple of bats—dented and old—and a small, draw-string bag will a few baseballs. He drops them next to Mark’s things.

Jeno still hasn’t arrived, which leaves just the two of them to check the place out. Even if there isn’t much to check out. Mark takes a peek at the dugout from several feet away, squinting through his glasses. Of course, that only reminds him that he’s going to have to start bringing his contacts to school. Playing baseball with glasses is a hassle.

Inside the wooden shelter, he can see the grass and some ants and he’s pretty sure he can see a few spiders. He hopes someone else is willing to go in there and clean it up because, nope, he’s not doing it.

“I think I saw the bases are in the storage room, and we can just pretend the lines are there, for now,” he continues as if Jaemin said nothing, at all. “Oh, and Mr. Moon said we can use the old equipment and uniforms. We don’t have enough money to upgrade.”

“Yay, wearing old clothes other people used to wear,” Jaemin mock-cheers. “Honestly, that might be the worst part of this.”

“We’ll get them dry-cleaned,” Mark promises, patting Jaemin on the shoulder. “Come on, Nana. Don’t be such a downer. We can work this out. We’re so close. Two more players and a coach and we’ll be golden.”

Jaemin scans the diamond. “And a hell of a lot of practice. Don’t forget that most of your players have no idea how to play.”

“We’ll get to it. You’ll be playing in no time.”

“Yipee.”

While they wait for the others to join them, Jaemin and Mark wander the area. It’s a lot of back and forth, a lot of ideas, and Mark finally feels like he’s getting somewhere. Jaemin may not be totally into the idea of being on a team, but he’s read the manual and when he talks, Mark knows that he cares about making this work just as much as Mark wants it to.

“Do you think Mr. Moon would let us repaint the lines? Pretending they’re there is fine, but, eventually, we might need them,” says Jaemin as he bends down to grab a collection of weeds and rip them out of the ground. He tosses them toward a patch of grass off the diamond.

“Maybe. We can ask. The worst he can say is ‘no’.”

And it isn’t like Mark hasn’t gotten enough ‘no’s out of Mr. Moon to last his whole life time, or anything.

Chenle and Jisung are the first to show up. Quiet as always, Jisung simply gives a small wave. Jaemin asks him how he is with bugs and the two of them head over to the dugout to sus it out.

Dropping his bag with everyone else’s, Chenle asks, “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“You said you’ve played before, right?”

Nodding, he replies, “Yeah, but that was a few years ago.”

Mark walks over to pick up a bat and holds it out to Chenle. “I’m not much of a Pitcher, but I’m a half-decent throw. Let’s see how your stance is.”

His movement is hesitant as he reaches out to take the bat from Mark, but once it’s in his hand he smiles. It’s the kind of smile that makes Mark think that he isn’t the only one that connects his happier times to a sport.

“It’s been a while,” Chenle tells him. “I don’t know how good I’ll be.”

“Just give it a shot.”

The mound has sunken down from lack of maintenance and Mark is pretty sure that will cause some issues when he throws. Even still, he perches himself atop of here it should be, hand in an old glove—he’s definitely going to have to start bringing his own to practice—and a ball in the other.

Chenle finds his place at homeplate. Mark watches with interest as Chenle weighs the bat in one hand and then the other. Then, with almost a practiced ease, he tosses the bat into a flip, hits the head of it so it rotates back, and catches the handle. Even he looks surprised when he glances at Mark.

“Shit, I didn’t know I could still do that,” he says.

Mark raises a brow. “You’ll have to show me how to do that sometime. Now, you ready?”

Just like he thought, his throw isn’t all that great. Mark’s never been a Pitcher and never wanted to be. He’d much rather be a Catcher than anything else. Still, it goes for Chenle all the same, a little lower than he would have liked, and Chenle has to bend to hit it. The ball taps off the end of the bad and bounces away.

“Sorry,” he offers. “Told you I’m not that great.”

From the dugout, Jaemin says, “We are in desperate need of a Pitcher because that was pitiful.”

“ _Yes_ ,” he calls back with a roll of his eyes, “thank you.”

When Mark jogs over to pick up the ball, he spots Lucas, YangYang, and Jeno turning around the bleachers. As they step closer, Lucas eyes the place and wrinkles his nose.

“This is where we have to practice?”

Mark nods. “For now.”

“Where is Nana?” Jeno asks.

“Dugout,” he replies. “Trying to clear out the spiders and stuff.”

Jeno’s eyes widen. “You let him near the spiders?” He bolts toward the dugout.

Mark can hear them talking, but not the actual words. YangYang raises a brow and Mark shrugs, saying, “Jaemin kills them and Jeno likes to save them. I don’t know. Don’t ask me. I’ve given up on them.” He walks over to the bag full of gloves. “I grabbed various sizes. I figured we could start with just throwing and catching to see where everyone is at. Then maybe do some batting.”

“Pass it here, dude,” says Lucas, clapping his hands and opening them up for Mark to throw him one of the larger gloves. He shoves it on. “A little tight, but it should work.”

“It’s going to have to. Mr. Moon won’t give us the money to get new stuff. This is kind of all we have. Although, finding a uniform that will fit you might be difficult.”

“Let’s just get the players,” Jaemin says from behind him, stepping out of the dugout and brushing himself off. Jisung follows right behind, a little close. Mark thinks he kind of looks like an awkward duckling following his mother, which is strange because he thought Jisung would take much longer to feel comfortable to everyone else. “Then we can deal with the tournament.”

Jeno comes out a moment later, hands cupped together. He bends down to put something into the grass. Probably a spider, Mark thinks. Standing up, he says, “When is the tournament? It isn’t going to effect cheerleading is it? Eunji will have my head if I start screwing with our practices.”

“Which seems ridiculous since she screws with them all the time by adding more,” Jaemin states and Jeno nods, solemnly.

“The tournament starts in April, so we still have a few weeks,” Mark says. “Enough time to practice and at least have some idea of what we’re doing.”

“Of course, we can’t really do much without a coach,” adds in Lucas.

Jaemin crosses his arms. “Asking your teachers didn’t work?”

Shaking his head, Mark says, “No. None of them can. I’m running out of ideas. If we don’t get a coach then we’re screwed.”

“And not the fun kind,” Lucas puts in. Mark raises a brow at him and he smiles. “Sorry, just saying. Look, we have—what?—about a month until we are actually in trouble?”

“Pretty much. And a lot of us are going to need work,” says Jaemin. “So, we should get started.”

“All right, everyone, grab a partner. We’re going to start off with a game of catch. Jeno, you’re with me,” Mark says with a snap of his fingers.

Jeno groans. “I hate this.”

It takes a couple of minutes before everyone is getting into the swing of it. Chenle’s taken Jisung off to the side, which Mark thinks is probably a good idea. Jisung seems to be the one who really knows nothing about the game. At least he has someone to teach him for the time being. On the other side of the diamond, Jaemin, YangYang, and Lucas have formed a triangle. He can hear Jaemin riddling off the things he’s learned from the manual, answering YangYang’s many questions.

“I don’t think this is going to work, Mark,” Jeno says as he dodges another ball Mark has passed to him. Underhand, too. It shouldn’t that hard to catch. “I’m just not made for this kind of thing.”

“To catch a ball? Jeno, it isn’t that hard. Look, toss it to me.”

Jeno’s throw is too low, too flimsy, and Mark knows that he has more in him than that. Still, he keeps his mouth shut and catches the ball, nearly falling to his knees to do it. Jeno has the audacity to look sheepish.

“Just use the glove. You’ll be fine. And I’m not aiming for your face, so you’ll be fine,” he says, throwing the ball back.

Jeno takes too many steps back so the ball hit the ground, bouncing a little, before he picks it up. “I don’t think I have time to learn all this and do cheer. Eunji’s already calling three extra practices and we have a game tomorrow—”

“If it really gets too much, we’ll help you out. We aren’t going to try and make you suffer.” Mark lunges to catch Jeno’s throw. The ball smacks against his glove. “And if Eunji can’t be accommodating, then we’ll just work it out. Do you even have fun doing cheer anymore?”

“Of course, I do,” Jeno says, almost a little too quickly. “Well, I mean, yeah. Yes, I do. It’s just…It’s a lot. Especially with Eunji as captain. But she’s still just finding her footing and I’m sure it’ll get better.”

Mark thinks that Jeno is trying to convince himself more than him, but he stays quiet because Jeno seems to be busy sorting his thoughts out.

In freshman year, Jeno had joined because there was no dance team. It was somewhat of a blessing in disguise because it was dance and acrobatics and a team setting and Jeno likes all those things. He lives for those things. So, it just sort of stuck. Now, Mark thinks that maybe it’s Jeno who’s the one who is stuck. Too nice, too busy trying to make everyone else happy and doesn’t want to let anyone down.

But Mark can tell that Jeno’s lost a bit of the fire he had for cheer, especially when he found out Eunji would be gaining captain. It isn’t that he dislikes Eunji. He just finds her hard to work with. From what he knows, Mark can kind of understand that.

It’s just hard because Mark wants Jeno to like what he’s doing. Not feel like he needs to do it and can’t get away.

Mark catches the ball and crosses the distance between the two of them. “You know, we’ll support whatever you want to do. You know that, right?”

Jeno’s nod is small, his head ducked so that his dark hair hangs over his eyes. Regardless, Mark can see the way he shoots Jaemin a glance, peeking as if he isn’t allowed to.

Sighing, he adds, “You should talk to Nana about it. He’s better at words. Speaking them, anyway.”

“I don’t want to bug him with it,” mutters Jeno. He pulls the glove off his hand and flexes his fingers. They’re a little red.

“Jaemin’s been your best friend since you two were toddlers. The whole point of best friends is to bug them with shit. And,” Mark lowers his voice, “maybe you should also, probably, tell him you like him.”

Jeno’s eyes go round, head snapping up to look at Mark. “No. Oh, no. I’m not going there. That’s just asking for problems. He doesn’t like me like that and I’m not about to ruin our relationship.”

“Nana wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You won’t even tell him that you’re gay,” Jeno shoots back. Although softly because, no matter how he’s feeling, Jeno will always be nice about things.

He can’t help the flinch that comes and Jeno bites his lip, instant regret on his face. “I’m not gay,” Mark says, throat a little dry. “I just—There was a momentary lapse in judgement, in thought. Nothing else has happened. And I told you because I thought you wouldn’t hold it against me.”

“I’m not,” Jeno insists. “I’m just saying that Jaemin’s your best friend, too. He won’t mind. He already knows I’m bi and he’s cool with it. Lucas, too.”

“There isn’t anything to say. I’m not gay. There was just a moment where I…” His voice trails off.

“Where you thought about kissing a boy? That’s not a crime, Mark. And, yeah, it doesn’t mean you’re gay, but why can’t you tell Nana that? You had no problem telling me.”

Mark kicks at the ground. “I knew you’d listen before saying anything about it. I don’t know. I trust Jaemin, but I also know he likes to stick his nose in things. He’d want to try and figure it all out. I don’t want to. I just needed to tell someone and you were the best person, and now I want to forget it ever happened.”

The way Jeno looks at him is as if he’s analyzing Mark’s features and the way they move. He tries not to wince of grimace. Finally, Jeno nods. “If you say so. But don’t get scared to come talk to me. I know I slipped up yesterday, but I’ve got your back and I won’t mention it unless you want me to. Okay?”

Something akin to relief unfolds in his chest. “Thank you.”

“Hey! I thought we were practicing!” Jaemin shouts from across the diamond at them.

Mark holds up his hands in mock-surrender. “Yeah, yeah. We are. Ten more minutes and we’ll start some batting.” He pats Jeno on the shoulder. “You got this and we’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jeno smiles, eyes turning to crescents. Taking a deep breath, he slides his glove back on. “Okay, let’s go.”

*

Games at SM High are likes full-town events. At least when it comes to some of the larger sports like football, basketball, or soccer. Families find time to come and watch and they fill the bleachers no matter what. So, Mark isn’t surprised that a third of the town has filled the audience for the first soccer game of the season.

From his spot in the bleachers, Mark can see Jeno. He’s dressed in his yellow and black uniform, clapping and jumping, trying to hype of the crowd. Everyone screams around him and Mark glances to Jaemin to see if he’s starting to get a headache, too.

Jaemin, however, doesn’t seem to be all that interested in the pre-game hype. On his lap is Mark’s baseball manual. His eyes scan the pages, slowly.

“Are you not going to watch?” Mark asks, raising his voice to be heard over the family next to him, all who are going to have no voices by tomorrow morning.

Glancing up, Jaemin says, “That game hasn’t started. Besides, we come to support Jeno. Not watch the games.”

“I thought we did both?” Mark raises a brow.

Jaemin frowns, lips parting just slightly. If Mark didn’t know any better, he’d say Jaemin’s cheeks are turning red. “I mean, sure, we watch the games, too. It would be silly to just want Jeno the whole time, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” Mark agrees, though there’s a teasing note to his tone. It somewhat gets lost in the noise, luckily for Jaemin. “I’m going to get some water. You want anything?”

“Get me a water, as well.”

Getting down the bleachers and through the crowd is difficult. When Mark finally pushes his way through, he almost takes down another person. Apologies are on his lips before he can think, but the person—another boy—pays him no mind. Mark catches sight of blond hair and tanned skin before the boy disappears into the people.

He heads toward the school. Just inside the door are vending machines. He puts himself into the small line-up, waiting for his turn.

Sometimes, it’s crazy to think about how many people show up for events like this. Then again, nothing else happens in this town, so they grab onto what they can. The soccer team has been winning trophies for years and, if there’s one thing Mark’s learned about his small town, it’s that they love trophies.

He feels someone step up behind him and Mark casts a glance back, purely subconsciously. Unfortunately, he probably shouldn’t have because he comes face to face with Coach Choi. Tall and broad, Coach Choi is one of those men that Mark likes to avoid. The ones that know they’re all that, the ones that are intimidating, with no humor, and who just love running kids into the ground because they can. Mark has seen Coach Choi with the soccer team and he feels awful for them.

He goes to turn around, hopefully before Coach Choi can catch him staring, but he’s too late when he hears, “Lee Mark, right?”

“Um, yeah,” he replies, eyes glancing at the line and just praying they move faster.

Coach Choi eyes him. “You’re the one Mr. Moon was saying was starting up the baseball team again.”

Mark steps closer to the vending machine. One more person and he can escape. “Yeah, I guess.”

The smile he gets doesn’t go to Coach Choi’s eyes. It’s ruthless, a little patronizing. It’s almost as if he wants to reach out and pat Mark on the head as if he’s seven. Not seventeen going on eighteen. “Good luck with that kid. Baseball’s a lot cause in this town. You’re better off just giving up.”

“I don’t,” Mark looks to his shoes, “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s that bad. It’s possible.”

Coach Choi’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. “Is it? So, you got a full team? Got a coach? I’m assuming you don’t since most of the teachers on staff wouldn’t go for it. Putting their name on a losing team would be humiliating.”

The person before Mark leaves and he steps up to the vending machine, back to Coach Choi. He knows that, in a way, he’s right. It’s going to be hard. Mark’s known that the whole time. Still, there’s hope and he’s not about to tell some grown man with a grudge ruin that for him. Especially the man who abandoned a team just because of a loss. A loss that could have happened to anyone.

Slamming his fingers onto the buttons, Mark grabs two waters and, before he leaves, he glances at Coach Choi. “Thanks for your opinions, but I think I can sort it out for myself.”

His heart is still hammering in his chest, horrified by his own mouth for talking back to a teacher like that, when he arrives back at his seat. Jaemin reaches out for one of the water bottles with a ‘thank you’ on his lips. He goes to turn back and read when he double-takes and frowns.

“What’s wrong? Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” he asks.

Mark’s hands are shaking as he opens his bottle. He downs almost half of it. “I spoke with Coach Choi. I think he hates me now. Cut my tongue out, Nana.”

“What did you do?”

“He was talking about how starting up a baseball team was worthless, that no one would go for it and I was just, basically, wasting my time. And, I just—I told him I could work it out myself, but I may have said it in a passive aggressive ‘fuck you’ kind of way and there’s no way he didn’t notice that.”

Jaemin snickers. “I guess he’s definitely out of the picture for being our coach then.”

“I wouldn’t want him anyway,” Mark says. “He terrifies me.”

“Not enough to have you talk back to him, apparently.”

Groaning, Mark buries his face in his hands. “We’re so screwed. He’s going to come back with an ‘I told you so’ the moment we have to give this up because we can’t find a coach or two more members. All I’m going to do is prove him right.”

The crowd cheers as the soccer team runs out onto the field. Jeno and the other cheerleaders have started their routine. Jaemin’s eyes follow Jeno’s every move, manual still open on his lap.

“Well, actually, I found something that might help us,” Jaemin tells him over the noise. He hands the book over to Mark, eyes still on the cheerleaders. “Our coach can be anyone. Doesn’t need to be a teacher. They just have to have permission from the school. Of course, we would need a teacher, as well, if we go that way, but I’m sure Mr. Moon wouldn’t have an issue handling the paperwork. The actual coaching, though? They can be anyone.”

Mark scans the page, reading the rules. “That’s great and all, but I don’t know anyone who would be willing to coach a high school baseball team, so how does that help us?”

Tearing his gaze from the squad, Jaemin says, “I might have an idea about that, too. Now, watch the game.”

“Says the boy watching the cheerleaders instead,” Mark snips. He closes the book and hands it back to Jaemin, whose cheeks are definitely red.

He gets a quiet ‘shut up’ before the audience erupts in cheers again. This time, Mark and Jaemin join them. From down below, Jeno spots them. A grin lights up on his face and he points at them, laughing. Right now, they’re here for Jeno. Mark can handle his baseball issues later.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is having a great holiday <3   
> We've got some new characters this chapter. Bringing them all together is the longest thing to do, but, in the end, I think it'll be worth it. I know the chapters are kind of short (or maybe they're fine...what do you think?), but they will get longer as time goes on and there's more plot to tell. Especially once we get into the games. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and see you next Tuesday :)

Saturday finds Jaemin’s parents out in the yard and himself in his room up to his eyeballs in homework. They’ve just started the school year and he’s already swamped out of his mind. It doesn’t help that he spent way too long at Jeno’s house after the game, getting home around midnight and not falling asleep until about two hours later. The shift in his schedule has left his eyes sore and his brain tired.

Through the wall, he can hear Jaehyun shifting in his bed. Each time he does, the frame knocks against the wall and Jaemin’s grip on his pencil gets tighter.

Jaehyun has been in his room for far too long and Jaemin is starting to worry. Or get frustrated. Or both, quite honestly because seriously? His brother has so much potential and he’s sleeping all the fucking time. Jaemin’s not even sure he’s left the house since he got home a little less than a week ago.

Another knock against his wall and Jaemin sighs, heavily. He drops his pencil as he turns to stare at the wall with a frown.

Most of Jaehyun’s friends have left town for university, but some are still floating around. Jaemin’s caught a glimpse of them out and about. The unfortunate thing is that Jaemin doesn’t think Jaehyun still talks to them. After he moved, Jaehyun sort of cut everyone off, friends and family and everyone in between. Moving away was supposed to be his fresh start. Apparently, that didn’t go as well as he had hoped.

Jaemin’s heard Jaehyun and their mom talking, about possibly finishing up classes online from home, to searching for a job or something else to do. Jaehyun hasn’t seemed interested in any of those ideas, always shrugging his shoulders and brushing it off.

At some point, Jaehyun’s going to have to deal with everything he’s so busy sweeping under the rug.

Clicking his tongue, Jaemin props his chin in his hands. The little book on the edge of his desk catches his attention. Reading Mark’s baseball manual has been more interesting than he thought it would be. Who knew there was so much to a game like baseball? And if he hadn’t read it, he definitely wouldn’t have known about the coach rules.

Jaemin studies the wall. He’s thought about asking Jaehyun since last night, since he came across the rules. It’s an idea. The team is desperate, there’s no other teacher who will do it, and Jaehyun has the skills. Jaemin thinks that, if Jaehyun wanted to, he could be a great coach.

The only problem is, Jaehyun doesn’t want anything to do with baseball anymore. He’d rather stick pins in his eyes. But Jaemin knows it’s a good idea. He just has to make sure that Jaehyun believes that, too.

Jaehyun’s bed knocks against the wall again and Jaemin stands up, throwing open his door and going to bang on Jaehyun’s. He waits for a moment before it swings open. Jaehyun’s hair is a mess, sticking up in all directions in a dark mess. Shirtless with baggy pants, he really looks like he’s been trying to sleep, despite it being way past noon.

Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, Jaehyun demands, “What?”

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Jaemin starts, clapping his hands together, “my friend, Mark, has started up the baseball team again and somehow roped me and a few other people into it. The problem? We have no coach and none of the teachers will do it and, fuck it, if we even remotely try to convince Coach Choi to pick it up again.”

Jaehyun scans Jaemin’s face, eyebrows drawing together and body tense. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Well, I read the manual and it looks like any legal adult can be our coach, as long as the school agrees,” he elaborates. “Funny how I know a legal adult, who not only knows how to play baseball, but has also been in the tournaments we’d be going to, right?”

“Jaemin.”

Throwing up his hands, he says, “Will you be our coach?”

“No.” Jaehyun slams his door closed.

Gritting his teeth, Jaemin pounds on the door until Jaehyun opens it again. “Look, I get it. You have bad memories, you don’t want to get involved with it all again, yadda yadda yadda.” He points at Jaehyun. “But we need someone like you to help us out. Most of us have no idea how the game works and Mark can’t teach us all in a month. You, though, you could do it. You used to help out people on your team all the time.”

“When I was seventeen, Jaemin,” he says. “Love you, little bro. You know I do. But I’m not coaching teens and I’m definitely not coaching baseball at that school. Sorry, but no. Go find someone else.”

“There _is_ no one else!”

“Then,” Jaehyun says as he starts to close the door, “I guess you’re fucked. Now, go away. I’m sleeping.”

This time, when the door closes, Jaemin doesn’t knock again. He huffs, spins on his heel, and marches back to his bedroom, closing himself inside. Collapsing on his bed, Jaemin realizes that, yep, this is going to be a lot more difficult than he thought it was going to be.

Jaehyun really is the only person he can think of who could help them. It’s just making Jaehyun see that it’s worthwhile that will be the struggle.

Sitting up, Jaemin glares at the wall between his and Jaehyun’s room. Well, Jaehyun’s stubborn, but so is Jaemin, and he’s not going to let this go until he has what he wants.

*

Mark groans as Jeno dodges the ball. Yet again.

“Stop dodging!” he shouts as Jeno jogs away from him to fetch the ball.

“It was coming for my face!”

“It was nowhere near your face!”

Running his hands through his hair, Mark takes a deep breath. They’ve been at this since the start of lunch and Jeno still won’t even attempt to catch the ball. He keeps backing away or ducking. Each time Mark feels his patience dropping.

It isn’t that he doesn’t understand the fear. Irrational fears are a thing. But Jeno seriously has to get over his fear of the ball hitting him if he’s ever going to make it out onto the field, and Mark desperately needs him on the field.

Jaemin, stretched out on the grass, says, “You’ll throw a back-handspring, but you won’t catch a ball?”

Finding his spot again, Jeno frowns. “Those are two different things. This ball could break my nose. It could ruin my face, and I like my face.”

“You could break an arm or your whole head if you land a handspring wrong,” Mark counters. “Whatever, toss it back. And try this time.”

“I am trying!”

He is. Well, kind of. He’s trying in the lamest sort of way Mark can even consider. Every time Mark throws, Jeno _looks_ like he’s going to go for it before backing up quickly and letting it fall to the grass. Honestly, he better start at least attempting because all the students walking past are watching and Jeno has to feel the embarrassment, right?

They chose a spot right off the side-path of the school where students often pass coming and going from lunch. The field stretches out behind them where some people have decided to have a makeshift game of soccer with no rules. Mark sees one of the boys, a flash of pink hair, racing toward his friend and hip-checking him into the ground. If only Jeno were that aggressive. Maybe then he’d actually catch the fucking ball.

“At some point, you _will_ catch it,” Jaemin tells Jeno. “I mean, you have to.”

“I do catch it,” Jeno says with a pout on his lips.

Mark points at the ground. “After it bounces. In a game, you should try to get it from the air.”

“Why can’t someone else do it?”

Pressing a hand to his face, Mark sighs. It’s going to be a long day if he can’t get Jeno to catch the ball at least once. “Look, it’s not going to kill you and no one is aiming for your face. All you have to do it reach out and grab it. It’s literally not that hard.”

“You’ve been doing this since you were, like, six. Give me a break,” Jeno says. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I’m not cut out to be a baseball player.”

“You would do so well, though. I know you would.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not seeing any of that.”

Mark takes the ball. “You just don’t trust yourself enough to catch it. The ball has a trajectory. You’re the one that decides whether or not it’s going to hit you. Just put the glove where you need it and keep the rest of your body away.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Gesturing to Jaemin, Mark says, “Jaemin doesn’t even play sports and he managed to catch a ball.”

Jeno puts his hands on his hips, frown pulling at his eyebrows. “I’m not Jaemin.”

“No, you’re Jeno,” puts in Jaemin.

Mark rolls his eyes. “Helpful.”

“Fine. Toss it,” Jeno says, holding out his glove. “Softly.”

As gently as he can, Mark does just that. It’s a small lobby, but it arches high. Jeno tries to catch it, leaning his body back as his arms go forward. But his aim is off and the ball comes down a little too close to his body, so he flinches back and lets it fall to the ground again.

Scooping the ball up, he says, “I said softly!”

“That _was_ softly! It’s not my fault your aim sucks!”

“You catch it when it comes flying at your face,” Jeno says as he lobs the ball toward him, quick and sharp and aimed right for Mark’s face.

Ducking, Mark lets the ball fly over his head. It bounces on the grass before rolling across the pathway and coming to a stop, nudging at a passing boy’s shoe. Mark watches as he bends down to pick up and turn toward them.

Mark thinks he should know who this boy is. He knows almost all of the juniors and seniors—a few sophomores and freshman—because of his Student Body President role. When he first got it, he went out of his way to try and learn as many people as he could. Just to make him feel more connected. It helped that it was a small school. But even if he doesn’t know everyone’s names, he knows their faces and he definitely doesn’t know this boy.

This boy with blond hair and golden skin and dark eyes that seem to stare into his soul as he finds Mark’s gaze and holds it, like a challenge. He twirls the ball in his hand, the corner of his lips quirking into a smirk and Mark swears that his heart doesn’t clench.

It doesn’t.

Beside him, is another boy. A little smaller and a lot paler. The yellow of their uniform certainly isn’t his color. His black hair brushes across his eyelashes as he narrows his eyes at the ball, and then sliding his gaze toward Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin.

“Um, can you throw it back?” Mark asks, holding out his glove low.

He expects an underhand toss. Something light. But there’s a flicker in the boy’s eyes and his smirk grows full-force. Mark can’t help but think this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach is like a warning, as if sensing trouble, because that’s what it looks like.

What he doesn’t expect is for the boy to lift his knee, put his arm back in a wind up, and let it all go. Mark is so startled that he almost doesn’t snap out of it fast enough. The ball blurs and then, for just a second, it looks as if it’s floating. Mark has to flick his glove just slightly to the left to catch it, where it lands with a solid, slightly painful, thud.

He may have stopped breathing. Flicking his eyes from the ball in his glove to the boy on the path, Mark is sure that, yes, he isn’t breathing. Because that boy just threw a perfect pitch.

Sensing that Mark isn’t about to say anything else, the boy flashes him a smile, shoves his hands into his pockets, and wanders off down the path with his friend at his side. Mark can’t help but follow them.

“—ark! Mark!”

A hand is shoved into his face and a snap of fingers breaks him out of his trance. Jaemin and Jeno move in front of his view, eyebrows furrowed.

“You okay?” Jeno asks.

Mark looks at the ball. “Who was that?”

“Lee Donghyuck?” Jaemin juts a thumb over his shoulder with a tilt of his head. “Transferred with his friend a couple of days ago. From the city, I think. He’s in my homeroom. Doesn’t really talk much with anyone but his friend. Why?”

He mutters, “He threw a knuckleball. A perfect knuckleball.”

“A what ball?” Jaemin questions, raising a brow. “Uh, you okay there?”

“I have to talk to him,” is all Mark says before he takes off. He races down the path, following the way the two boys went, but when he turns the corner of the school they’re gone. He’s too late.

“Mark!”

Panting, Jaemin and Jeno come to a stop at his side.

“Mark, what the hell are you talking about?” Jaemin demands.

“He threw a perfect knuckleball pitch, Nana,” Mark presses. “Do you know how hard that is?”

“Are you going to tell me what that is first?”

Mark holds up the ball. “It’s a throw that has very little spin. It’s hard to master and it’s hard to hit. But that boy—Donghyuck?—just threw one as if he’s been doing it all his life.” He grabs at Jaemin’s shoulders to shake him. “Do you know what this means?”

“It means you letting me go?” Jaemin suggests, shoving Mark away. “You want to recruit him?”

“I need to. This team needs someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be you?” asks Jeno.

Waving his hand, he says, “We need another person. We need him.”

“I mean, you can try,” Jaemin says, slowly, “but what if he doesn’t go for it?”

“With a pitch like that, it means he plays, which means he’ll join. He has to. It would be a waste if he didn’t.”

“I don’t know, Mark…”

But Mark tunes them out, eyes following the straight line of the path to the doorway into the school. Somewhere inside those walls is a boy who can pitch and Mark isn’t about to let him slip through his fingers. No, he’s going to get this boy to sign up.

Donghyuck, he thinks, letting the name roll around his mind. Yeah, he’s going to get Donghyuck on the baseball team if it’s the last thing he does.

*

Finding Donghyuck is a lot harder than Mark expects it to be. Honestly, his school isn’t that large, so finding him should have been relatively easy. Still, he struggles. He doesn’t get much time at lunch and then he has to sit through his afternoon classes, but, at the end of the day, he practically jogs through the students, searching high and low.

He wonders if Donghyuck and his friend may have lockers closer to Jaemin’s homeroom, since they share it with him, so Mark makes a beeline for the science hall. The school may be small, and there may not be that many students, but, god, when they’re all clustered together and desperate to leave, it’s like swimming upstream.

It takes effort to push his way through. He spots Jaemin at his locker and goes to head over and ask about Donghyuck’s possible whereabouts, when a voice calls out behind him.

“Mr. Lee!”

Several heads, including Mark’s turn toward the voice. Too many Lees, he thinks. He has half a mind to believe they aren’t calling for him, but then he sees Mr. Moon shuffling down the hall, headed right for him and Mark’s heart sinks.

“He—Hey, Mr. Moon,” he stutters, casting a glance over his shoulder at Jaemin, who’s stopped what he’s doing at his locker to watch. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you how the baseball team is going,” Mr. Moon says. He pushes his glasses farther up his nose. “I hope well?”

Despite what he would prefer, Mark is a terrible liar. Absolutely sucks. His hands get clammy and he starts to stutter and his heart pounds like a warning because, fuck, he can’t lie to people. That’s just so wrong. Sometimes, however, he wishes he were so much better at it just to get out of situations like this.

“Yeah,” he says, voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat. “Um, yeah. Well. It’s going, um, well. You know…It’s going.”

Mr. Moon raises a brow. “Is it? You got a full team? A coach?”

Without meaning too, Mark looks back at Jaemin again, who frowns at him and tilts his head, like he’s asking if he should come and save him. Mark wants to tell him to, _please_ , come and save him from this hell. But then his attention catches sight of a blond boy a little farther down the row of lockers, cracking one open to put his books inside, and Mark knows he needs to do this himself. And fast.

“Mr. Lee?”

“Huh?” He twists around. “Oh, um, working on it, Mr. Moon. I just need two more players and a coach, but we’ll get there. I promise.”

“Well, I would hate to tell you to hurry, but,” Mr. Moon sighs, “unfortunately the principal has caught wind of what you’re doing and he’s giving you a time limit. You need to have all your players and your coach by this Friday.”

Mark gapes. “What? That’s so fast!”

“We have to,” he says. “He wants it formed by then. So, Mark, if you’re really serious about it, I would suggest getting your team together. Pronto. Understand?”

He glances back. Donghyuck has his bag in his hand and is closing his locker door. Mark needs to go now.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Moon. Promise!” He takes a step back. “I’ll do that. I have to go! See you, Mr. Moon!”

He races down the hall, past Jaemin—who shouts at him—and straight for Donghyuck. He doesn’t even care about what it looks like as he skids around in front of Donghyuck, holding his hands out as the boy nearly stumbles into him.

“What the fuck?” The glare he gets is lit with fire and Mark tries his best not to flinch.

He opens his mouth to say something—to apologize, really—when something silver twinkles and Mark’s gaze it drawn to it like a magnet. Well, fuck, Mark hadn’t noticed that before. Then again, he wasn’t this close to Donghyuck before. All he saw was golden skin and blond hair and the darkness of his eyes as they met Mark’s from over thirty feet away.

And, yeah, Donghyuck’s skin is still golden, but Mark can see the moles on his cheek that dot down his neck and disappear under the collar of his school uniform. His hair is still blond, but it’s not as bright as Jaemin’s is. It’s more muted. Although, still striking against his skin tone. And, yep, his eyes are still dark. Dark with surprise and maybe a little irritation, Mark thinks, as they narrow at him.

What he hadn’t noticed before was the piercing through his right eyebrow. And the other ones that litter across his ears. Mark can’t help but follow the sparking silver, one at a time. Seven. He’s counting seven and they’re a little distracting.

“Dude!” Donghyuck snaps, waving his hand in front of Mark’s face and successfully bringing him back to reality. He can feel the tips of his ears warm. “What do you want? Is there a reason you came at me like a battering ram?”

Right. Right. Mark has a mission.

He blinks a few times, gathering himself—and trying desperately not to eye the piercing in Donghyuck’s eyebrow—and says, “Um, yeah. Hi. I’m Mark—”

“I know who you are.”

The response startles him. “You do?”

“Lee Mark, senior. Student Body President, basketball captain, karate club vice-captain, and now the baseball captain,” Donghyuck riddles off, shifting his bag onto his shoulder. “You’re kind of the talk of the school.”

“I am?”

Donghyuck raises a brow. “Seriously?”

Mark’s ears are definitely red because they are burning. “I mean, I don’t really pay that much attention to the gossip in the hallways.”

“It’s whatever.” Donghyuck shrugs before letting his eyes scan Mark from bottom to top. “So, what does the president want with me?”

“You’re, um, Donghyuck, right?”

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

Well, then. The thing is, Mark figured that Donghyuck may be the type to have a lot of fire, a lot of spirit. He can just tell from the look in his eyes that reminds him of those kids who promise their parents everything will be fine and then proceed to do everything they shouldn’t do. Mischievous. So, Donghyuck’s flippant tone isn’t that far off from what he expected.

However, Mark’s never been good with those kinds of people. Jaemin is sometimes like that, though a little more on the subdued side. But Donghyuck looks like the kind of person to have a quick tongue and a wit on him that Mark doesn’t think he can rival to save his life.

Regardless, he takes a deep breath and says, “You threw a perfect pitch at lunch.”

The corner of Donghyuck’s lips twitch, as if he wants to accept the praise, but doesn’t want to show it. “Did I? Well, thanks, Prez.”

Mark blinks at the nickname. “Mark is fine. Um, but—Look, I’m going to say it. I want you to join the baseball team. You’re a damn good throw and we need people like you.”

Whatever smile was trying to crawl across Donghyuck’s lips falls. “No.” He starts to go around Mark.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Exactly that. No. I’m not joining your team.”

“Why not?” Mark asks. “You’re good. Which means you’ve had training. You know what you’re doing. And we need another player.”

Donghyuck comes to a stop and turns towards him. “Why? Because I don’t want to. That easy. Sorry, but I’m not interested. You’ll have to find someone else.”

“But we—”

“Hyuck? What’s going on?”

From behind Donghyuck, his friend appears. He brushes his black hair out of his eyes to stare at Mark, take him in. Analyzing.

Not even sparing his friend a glance, Donghyuck says, “Prez here wants me to join the baseball team.”

The boy’s eyes flash wide. “Did he? What did you say?”

“I said no.”

Just as quick as it came, the surprised look vanishes from the boy’s face, becoming something more schooled and unreadable. “Oh, I see.”

“Come on, Renjun,” Donghyuck says. “Let’s catch the bus. See you around, Prez.”

Mark watches them turn to leave, stumbling over his thoughts and words as he calls out, “Wait! Please? At least think about it?”

Donghyuck flicks his eyes to the ceiling and then at Mark. “There. Thought about it. Answer is still no. Good luck on forming your team, Prez. You’ll do just fine without me.”

And with that, Donghyuck leaves with his friend, Renjun, in tow, and Mark simply watches them, unsure of what to say or do.

“Well,” Jaemin says as he steps up beside Mark, “that didn’t work.”

“Thank you, Nana. I really appreciate your input,” he grumbles. “What are we going to do? We have until Friday to get a full team together and the only guy who seems to know what he’s doing won’t even join the team!”

Sighing, Jaemin pats him on the shoulder. “You’ll think of something. You always do. Now, come on, Jeno is waiting.”

Mark glances back toward the door that Donghyuck and Renjun vanished through. He sure hopes Jaemin is right because if he doesn’t think of something fast, he and his dream of having a baseball team is so screwed.


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't want a bit of Markhyuck bickering?

“You’re going to ask Jaehyun?”

Jeno’s tone is pressing as it comes through the speaker of Jaemin’s phone. It’s early in the morning and Jaemin is still somewhat half-asleep as he tries to tie his tie. He would think, after years of wearing uniforms, it would be muscle memory by now, but his hands just refuse to listen. Grunting, he tugs at it to undo the knot and start again.

“Correction: I asked him, he said no,” Jaemin says. The sound of Jaehyun’s bedroom door opening catches his attention and he raises his voice to shout, “Now I just have to convince him!” The bathroom door slams.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Jeno questions. Even if he can’t see him, Jaemin knows Jeno is doing that worrying thing with his hands. The motion of playing with his fingertips and flexing, as if he doesn’t know what to do with them. “I mean, he _hates_ baseball now. That’s what you said, right?”

“I don’t think he hates baseball, so much as hates the fact that he lost while playing it. And it wasn’t really the baseball part that turned him into this,” he wrinkles his nose, “zombie or whatever. It was just a bunch of things at once. I think he needs it. He needs to get over this funk he’s in and I think coaching us is the best thing to do.”

“Are you sure?”

Jaemin understands the hesitation. He really does. Unlike Mark, Jeno knows most of the story. He knows why Jaehyun lost the game, what happened afterward, and what’s going on now. They’ve been friends for so long that it would be odd if he didn’t have a clue.

Still, hesitation is what got them into this mess. Hesitation and anger and frustration. Jaehyun allowed that to control him until things started to fall apart even more. Now, Jaemin wants him to let that go and have some fun again.

Baseball was what Jaehyun did. That was his life. He loved every moment of it. After the loss, he seemed to think baseball failed him, that there was nothing left to do without it. But baseball didn’t fail Jaehyun. Jaehyun failed it. If Jaemin can just convince him to try, just one more time, maybe, just maybe, Jaehyun can make up for all the years he lost feeling sorry for himself.

Finally knotting the tie correctly, Jaemin picks up his phone, turns off the speaker, and holds it to his ear. “I am. I think so, anyway. He threw away something he loved and worked so hard on. Without it, he just doesn’t have the spark in him like he used to. Somehow, I need to get that back.”

“Remember when you asked me to remind you when you’re doing that meddling thing? You’re doing that meddling thing again.”

“For good reason!” Jaemin exclaims. “If I can get him to coach, to see how much he still loves the game, maybe he can be happy again. I just want him to be happy, Nono.”

Jeno sighs from the other end. “I know you do, but you can’t force him. If he really doesn’t want to do it, just let him be. He’ll figure it out.”

“Will he? Because he hasn’t in the last four, almost five, years,” he grumbles. “Anyway, I’ll see you at school. I’m going to head out in a minute.”

“Sure. See you.” Then, he pauses. “Just…Don’t attack him about it? The last thing you want is to make him feel claustrophobic after moving back and then run away again.”

That, Jaemin also understands. Even if it stings. “I won’t. I’ll be good,” he says. “I promise.”

“Okay, well, see you at school.”

After he’s hung up, Jaemin grabs his bag and opens his door. Down the hall, Jaehyun comes out of the bathroom. For a moment, they just stare at each other before Jaehyun breaks the moment, shakes his head and starts for his room.

“So—”

“Don’t push it, Jaemin,” says Jaehyun as he opens his door and slips inside. “Push and I’ll shove your head in the toilet.”

“Classy, big bro.”

Jaehyun smirks, the door inching closed. “Always am. Enjoy school.” It clicks closed.

Frowning, Jaemin spins on his heel and makes his way down the stairs. It’s Tuesday. He first asked Jaehyun on Saturday. He hopes, with just a little more time and effort, that he might end up with a yes. It just requires him to wear his brother down a little more until he finally breaks and gives in just to get Jaemin to stop.

He hopes. He wishes.

Because if they want to make this team thing work, they’re going to need a coach, someone who knows what they’re doing. They’re going to need Jaehyun.

If only Jaehyun would realize how much he needed them.

*

Jaehyun lands another punch to the sparing pad on Johnny’s hand, effectively jolting him back from the force.

Quirking a brow, Johnny says, “So much aggression for so early in the morning.”

Maybe, he thinks. Each punch has just a little too much force, a little too much energy. When he first left the house, right after Jaemin left for school, Jaehyun wasn’t sure he had enough in him to do boxing so early in the morning. His body was tired, sluggish, wishing for him to go back into bed. He supposes that’s what happens when he’s spent far too long allowing his body to relax. It doesn’t know any different anymore.

But the moment he put the gloves on and Johnny led him to the ring, Jaehyun hasn’t been able to stop. His arms are sore, his legs ache, and he can feel his knuckles sing each time he punches. Every time he lands a hit, it’s like a shock goes through his system. This is what he needed. For so long.

He yearns for it, even while doing.

“Slow down,” Johnny advices. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

No, they aren’t, but he still can’t stop himself. He can’t even remember the last time he worked out or boxed or even went to a gym. It’s been far too long and maybe, just a small part of him, is still excited about the prospect.

God, he hasn’t been this interested in being up and moving since…Well, since everything happened. Of course, it probably helps that he keeps picturing a face in Johnny’s sparing pad. Dark eyes and fluffy hair and—He lands another combo, each punch stronger than the next.

He isn’t going to think about him. Not now. Not ever. For fuck’s sake, Jaemin is right. He can’t keep doing this to himself. Even if it is the easier path.

“Okay, okay,” Johnny says as he lowers his hands and studies Jaehyun’s sweaty, panting form. “I think we’re done for this morning.”

“One more round.”

Johnny frowns. “No. I think you’re done, for now. A good trainer knows when his trainee needs a break. Drink your water.”

Huffing, Jaehyun tears off his gloves and snatches up his water bottle. Once he’s done with it, he sets it down and say, “Break done.”

“Break not done. You come back on Thursday and we’ll do more then. Feel free to use the treadmill, but I’d prefer you just go home and rest up.”

“But I don’t—”

“You weren’t this eager before. What’s changed?”

Nothing much, really. Not a lot. And, yet, it feels like something is different. Jaehyun just can’t put his finger on it. Maybe it’s because he’s finally had a taste of this life again and he doesn’t want to go back to the way he was before.

Doesn’t help that this sort of training brings back all kinds of memories he would rather punch out. Memories of a harsh, heartless coach, of heartbreak and loss, of him spiraling downward with no way to stop himself.

“Just realized how much I needed this,” he admits with a shrug.

Johnny nods, jumping from the ring and holding the rope up to Jaehyun to slip through. “You said you moved back here. From where?”

“The city,” he replies. “Was there for school. It didn’t really work out.”

“Why not?”

“Got bored? Failed some classes? Couldn’t handle the stress? All viable answers,” he says. “Long and the short of it, I dropped out of school and my mom told me to move back. I didn’t see any reason to not do it, so I did.”

“I feel like there’s a lot more to that story,” Johnny says. “A lot more.”

Jaehyun just shrugs. There is, he thinks, but it isn’t worth unloading on Johnny, especially since they haven’t known each other for very long. Instead, he heads over to his bag to pull out a towel.

He’s about to zip up his bag when a mesh of voices rings through the gym. They grow louder as they close in and Jaehyun stops to listen because, somehow, they sound familiar. Very familiar. Glancing over his shoulder, he catches sight of two men coming through the arch, dressed in joggers and t-shirts with duffle bags in their hands. They chat as if they’re arguing—or maybe bickering if the smile on one of the guy’s faces is enough to go by—and, together, they come to a stop near Jaehyun to put their things down.

Up this close, Jaehyun can see their faces and his blood runs cold and his body stops doing what it set out to do. He sees the dark hair and the sharp jaws and the maturity that’s settled in, but then they transform into teenagers, boys he used to know and work so hard with.

He barely has time to turn away before one of them looks up and spots him. The smile that had been on his lips freezes. Then, it grows and he rushes over to drag Jaehyun onto his feet as if it hasn’t been almost five years since they’ve seen each other. Jaehyun finds himself in a bear hug he can’t escape from.

“No way! Jae, dude, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever. Hey, Jungkook, look!”

When Jaehyun finally manages to lean away, he finds two smiling faces and he feels guilty. Oh, so guilty. “Mingyu, Jungkook. Um, hey?”

Mingyu laughs. “Wow, dude, I can’t believe this. Last I heard you went to some fancy university in the city. Decided you couldn’t stay away from our small town? Miss us too much?”

“Have you—Have you been here this whole time?” Jaehyun manages, eyes flicking between the two of them.

“I have been,” Mingyu answers, brightly. “Took over my dad’s store after graduating. Jungkook went to apprentice in Busan, though. He’s just back for the summer. What about you? What have you been up to?”

Oh, just failing miserably at life, he wants to say. He forces a smile. “Mom nagged me back.”

“Well, good thing she did, yeah? We were talking about you the other day,” says Mingyu. “It’s really nice to see you. Maybe you can stop by the diamond and we can do a friendly game.”

“Diamond?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, Mingyu and I are on the local team. I came back to play. We aren’t professional or anything. It’s just some fun. But you’re free to join us any time.”

“Baseball,” Jaehyun says. “You’re talking about baseball?”

“Of course!” Mingyu hits him on the shoulder, happily. “Just a bit of fun. No seriousness involved. Here, give me your phone.”

Wordlessly, Jaehyun does as he’s told. Mingyu puts in his new number and passes it to Jungkook to do the same.

To think, after their loss, that they both continued to play, is a little surreal. Then again, they weren’t the ones that destroyed their chances at a Championship game. That was all on Jaehyun.

“We’ll catch up,” Mingyu promises. “Me and Kook are going to hit up the ring. Talk to you later. Don’t be a stranger.”

Jungkook offers him a soft smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun chokes. “You, too.”

As the two of them wander off, Jaehyun notices Johnny is still there. His arms are crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised.

“What?” Jaehyun asks.

If possible, his eyebrow goes higher. “Oh, there is definitely more to the story. That was just plain awkward.”

Grabbing his back, Jaehyun says, “Shut up.”

Johnny’s laughs, heartedly. “Whatever you say, Jae. Whatever you say.”

Whatever tension he had managed to punch out this morning has settled back into his shoulders. Even long after he gets back home. Being home was one thing. Seeing everyone, people he let down all those years ago, is a different thing altogether.

He should have known better, should have expected to run into people he knew, but it never really sank in. Part of him thought he might get away with it or have more time to prepare himself. Maybe have something to say that was more impressive than ‘I’m a university drop out with no clear goal in sight’.

Fuck, life sucks.

Collapsing onto his bed, Jaehyun sighs. Hell, he thinks, would be more preferable than here.

*

Mark lifts his cap, runs his fingers through his fringe, and puts it back on with a sigh. For the last half hour, they’ve been doing basic warm ups, starting with laps around the diamond and stretching—all which Jeno ran because he at least knows what he’s talking about with that sort of thing—and now they’ve finally moved onto the actual baseball portion of the practice.

It’s rocky, of course. Mark has no idea how to coach. Explaining how to do things is difficult since, well, he just does them. He attempts to think back to the way his dad taught him, how his little league coach explained moves, but it’s a lot harder than he expects. Most of the time, he just wants to take the bat from them and do it himself.

It’s also somewhat interesting to see how people meld. With only one proper make-shift practice before, they’re all still getting to know one another and Mark is still learning their strengths and weaknesses.

Chenle and Jisung seem to have come as a pair. Mark has yet to figure out if it’s because they were friends before, or if they just somehow clicked as they were signing up for the team. Nevertheless, they sort of glue themselves together. Maybe not consciously, but certainly subconsciously. Jisung tends to almost hover just behind Chenle like a shadow and Chenle—Well, Chenle doesn’t seem to mind. When he laughs at something Lucas or YangYang have said, he leans back into Jisung as if he just expects him to be there. And, of course, he is.

From what Mark has gathered, Chenle has hidden and somewhat rusty skills at the basics. He can throw and catch well enough. His batting skills are almost solid enough. If only they had an actual Pitcher to give him a bit more of a challenge. So, in the long run, Mark isn’t so worried about him.

It’s the others he isn’t sure about. Jisung tries. He tries, quietly, without a word. He listens and nods and implements whatever Mark tells him to do. With his gangly limbs he has as good a reach as Lucas does. He also, strangely enough, seems to have no fear. When a ball is too far, he doesn’t wait for it to bounce, he just dives. He ends up with multiple scratches that Jaemin has to patch up, and Mark keeps telling him not to injure himself, but Jisung is also weirdly stubborn about it.

Speaking of Jaemin, he’s the one that surprises Mark the most. He’s read the manual, he knows the rules almost as well as Mark does, but the actual expectations of doing the work? Jaemin is good. He’s good at all of it. He has a solid catch, a solid throw, a solid swing. Sure, they aren’t as polished as they could be, but he does them with a lazy ease and Mark is left wondering ‘What the actual hell?’ because Jaemin doesn’t do sports. Ever. Watches them, sure, but playing?

It’s almost comical how Jaemin hits the ball with a thwack and then shrugs and passes it to the next person as if he doesn’t know, he doesn’t understand just how much potential he actually has. Instead, he seems more focused on helping Mark set up the practices and easing the younger members into a comfortable environment. Maybe that’s why Jisung has taken a liking to Jaemin. There’s an inherent aura of care around Jaemin when he talks to the younger members that even Mark feels himself drawn to.

And then there’s Lucas and YangYang. Both of which are a little all over the place, but eager. Mark can’t help but connect them to puppies. Overexcited, overly strong. YangYang is quick and fluid and he will jump—literally leap—for the ball even when it seems a little too high to grab, like a dog playing fetch. Then, he’ll smile with all his teeth visible, throw the ball back, and ask them to do it again.

Lucas, Mark thinks, has a lot of potential. He’s tall, he’s strong, he’s already active. He’s got everything in the bag and, with a little bit of molding, he could ultimately do any position he puts his mind to. Mark’s always known Lucas to be competitive, so when he tells Lucas exactly that, there’s a light that shines in his eyes that just says he’s going to prove it.

Lastly, there’s Jeno. Oh, Jeno. The thing is, Mark really does think that Jeno can do it. With cheer, he has no fear. He will throw himself into a backspring with no hesitation, even if, with one wrong move, he might land on his head. He has no problem tossing the girls in the air and catching them, or dancing in front of a crowd. But a ball—a small, insignificant little ball—scares the wits out of him.

Mark isn’t sure what to do about it. Jeno’s getting better. Each time they do it, he gets a little bit closer, but Jeno is their weakest link and Mark hates that. Not really for himself, but for Jeno because he can see the way that Jeno notices it. It does nothing for his confidence. Maybe that’s why he teams Jeno up with Jaemin when they start to practice their throws. Maybe Jaemin can bring some of that confidence out.

While Jeno and Jaemin work on that, Mark takes the rest of them to the Homeplate and hands the old, battered bat to Lucas. “We’re going to try out some batting. Keep it simple. We just want to get a feel for swinging for the ball.”

With that, Mark heads to the pitching mound, Lucas stays at Homeplate, and the rest of them move behind the backnet. They watch with their fingers though the chain link. He wants to tell them to move back a bit, but he knows the won’t, so he doesn’t.

“Come on, Mark,” Lucas eggs, wiggling the bat before bringing it up into position. He’s a good position, Mark notes. They should all have a feel for it since they worked on that last week. “Bring it.”

Now, Mark isn’t a Pitcher. He never was and never will be. Maybe when he was younger, he liked the idea, but now he can’t think about doing anything else other than batting and being the Catcher. Playing Pitcher is a lot of burden. Everything relies on a good or bad pitch. And, yeah, maybe it also relies on the Catcher’s call, but it’s the Pitcher who does it.

So, Mark doesn’t have a clean throw, and he knows it. He’s told them all that. Chenle has even been on the other end of it. Still, he does what he can because he’s the only one who remotely knows how to do it. God, he wishes they had a Pitcher.

He kind of wishes they had Donghyuck, though he knows that’s hopeless to wish for. He had seemed awfully resolute with his decision to not join and Mark knows he can’t force him to do it. Even if he wants him to. Even if he’s kind of desperate.

If they don’t get a Pitcher, he’s going to have to either step up, or he’ll have to figure out which one can do it. Maybe Chenle. It might be Chenle.

His throw goes a bit to the left, but Lucas adapts and swats at it. The ball comes flying back at Mark and he fumbles to catch it before it can smack him in the face. Heart beating, Mark glances at Lucas, who rubs the nape of his neck sheepishly and mutters an apology. Then, he laughs. Bastard.

Gritting his teeth, Mark tries again. He leans back, lifts his leg, and throws. Perhaps, he thinks, he should have gone for a more gathered approach because being overzealous just makes the ball veer off to the right and Lucas stumbles back before it can hit him and it slams into the fence behind.

“Dude, watch the face,” Lucas says, though there’s still a hint of mirth there, so Mark knows he isn’t in trouble. “That’s the money maker right there.”

Oh, Mark knows, he thinks rather bitterly. He ducks his head and digs the toe of his shoe into the ground as he pleads his brain to shut up and think about anything else but the memories that want to race to the forefront. Fuck, if only he could get his head to focus and not think about stupid, useless things.

“Your arm is pitiful.”

Mark’s head snaps up at the voice. It isn’t as familiar as the rest of his teams’, but somehow, instinctively, he knows exactly who it is and there’s a strange thud in his chest when he sees who’s stuck himself between Chenle and YangYang behind the backnet.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Absolutely abysmal.”

“What are you doing here?” Mark asks. “I thought you didn’t want to join.”

He thinks the pounding of his heart feels like anticipation. Maybe even hope. He hopes to God that Donghyuck maybe changed his mind.

Yes, as he said, he’s desperate. So desperate.

Dragging his fingers over the fence, Donghyuck glances from Mark to Lucas and then back again. There’s something in his gaze that is hard, as if he’s analyzing. Mark shifts when those eyes eye him from head to toe. Then, Donghyuck smirks.

“Don’t want to,” he says and Mark tries not to physical deflate. “Just came to check out how terrible your team was.”

In a second, Mark goes from deflation to bristling. They may not be the best, right now, but they will be. He doesn’t need some brat to rub it in their faces before they’ve even began.

“If you’re just going to make snide comments, you should leave,” he states through gritted teeth.

Chuckling, Donghyuck steps around YangYang and around the backnet to stand out in the open. There’s no boundary now and Mark isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Donghyuck looks at him like a cat playing with a mouse. Mark isn’t a mouse, though, and he won’t let some underclassman try to get a rise out of him.

“I don’t have time to hear comments from the peanut gallery,” he adds. He snaps his fingers for Lucas to toss him the ball back.

“Maybe you should make time,” Donghyuck drawls. “I mean, how else are you to know that your posture is tight, your throw is weak and you’re letting go too early. Please tell me you aren’t the Pitcher of this team. I heard through the grapevine that you wanted to win Nationals and keep this team alive. If you’re Pitcher, that’s just asking for failure.”

Mark locks his jaw, fingers so tight around the ball that his knuckles whiten. And he wanted this guy on his team? Donghyuck, apparently, is nothing more than a brat, an asshole.

“I mean, sure,” Donghyuck continues, waving his hand. He moves just slightly that the sun glints off the piercing in his eyebrow and Mark tries not to let it grab his attention. “You’ve got _some_ skill, but, let’s be honest, you’re no Pitcher.”

Before he knows it, Jaemin is at his side, arms crossed over his chest and his chin held high. “That’s because he’s not. He’s a Catcher.”

Mark never thought Jaemin would remember that. He doesn’t talk about what positions he likes to play that often. Actually, he’s pretty sure he only mentioned it once, a couple of years ago, maybe. Huh, maybe Jaemin does listen more than he lets on.

Something in Donghyuck’s eyes brightens. His eyebrows raise, disappearing under his golden fringe, and the corner of his lips turn up into a crooked smile. “Oh, a Catcher,” he says, almost mockingly. It makes Mark’s blood boil. “Well, then. Somehow, that explains everything.”

“Does it?” Mark grits out.

Donghyuck steps over to Lucas to take the bat out of his hands. Lucas steps back, eyes darting between Mark and Donghyuck, like he isn’t sure if he should step in or not. Luckily, he doesn’t. He just lets Donghyuck take place at the plate and point the bat at Mark, challengingly.

“You, Prez, are quite interesting,” Donghyuck says, not answering Mark’s question at all. Almost experimentally, he swings the bat. A perfect arc. Trained to perfection. Mark finds himself captivated because, _shit_ , Donghyuck knows what he’s doing and he needs that. On the team.

“Is there an actual, true reason you’re here?” asks Jaemin. “Other than to make fun of Mark? Because, I’m telling you now, we do that quite well on our own.”

Mark shoots him a glare when Donghyuck snorts.

“I’m sure you do,” he says. “Nah, not really. Just curious. I mean, you did try to recruit me and I’m allowed to scope out the team, aren’t I? Just, um, a question,” he scans them all with a frown, “how many of you have actually played before? Because yikes.”

The thing is, Mark is known for his level head, in any situation. He’s stepped into fights, he’s handled stressful endeavors, he’s dealt with a hell of a lot and very rarely does he actually get angry. Or even panicked. Things, he decides, happen for a reason.

But my fucking God, Mark wants to take that bat and ram it into Donghyuck’s gut, and the thought startles him a little. This is his team. His friends and people who will become his friends. This is his dream and like hell is he going to let Donghyuck make snide comments about it.

He might have wanted him on the team before, but if this is the attitude he would have been stuck with, then, well, he’s glad he dodged that bullet. 

“You have a big mouth,” Mark says.

Donghyuck shrugs, leaning on the bat. “For good reason. I mean, you were the one that said I had a great throw.”

“Maybe it was a lucky shot.” He pauses when Donghyuck’s eye narrow. Oh. There it is. Maybe Mark’s hit something he hadn’t been aiming for. Still, it works. “Maybe, you aren’t as good as I thought you were and that throw was a fluke.”

Slowly, Donghyuck straightens and he schools his features into something a little more unreadable. “Not a fluke.”

“Then,” Mark says, “you won’t mind doing it again, would you?”

Eyes are the windows to the soul, Mark’s been told. Donghyuck is no exception. It doesn’t matter how much he tries to keep cool, tries to control every part of himself until he comes off as distant and nonchalant or maybe just taunting. He can’t hide the way that sparkle in his eye shines at that challenge he’s offered.

Competitive, Mark notes. Donghyuck is stubborn and competitive.

The bat hits the dirt and rolls to the edge of the Pitcher’s mound. Donghyuck tips his head back to stare down his nose at Mark. “Pass me the fucking ball.”

“Mark,” Jaemin hisses, but Mark pays him no mind.

Instead, he tears off his glove and tosses it at Donghyuck, who catches it with ease, before throwing him the ball. There’s something about the way Donghyuck holds it, the way he turns it, that feels a little gentler than what Mark’s seen him capable of in the last little while.

Scooping up the bat, Mark heads to Homeplace. When Donghyuck passes by him to swap him place, Mark catches his gaze. He rips his attention away before his mind can start playing tricks on him again.

He taps the bat on the plate and moves into position. “What are the stakes?”

Arm crossed over his chest in a stretch, Donghyuck says, “You hit my pitch—solidly, not some flimsy, fucking bunting—in three throws and I’ll join your band of merry men. How about that?”

“I thought you didn’t want to join,” he quips.

Donghyuck smirks and Mark tenses. “Oh, honey, I don’t.”

Mark tries not to let the word ‘honey’ irk him too much. Even though it still tries to wiggle under his skin. “Just throw.”

Just like before, Donghyuck’s moves are fluid. Such an ease that can only be achieved by years of practice over and over again. Mark wonders how much effort Donghyuck put into his form, into his movements, into his throw, to get it so perfect.

Even in their yellow and black uniform, Donghyuck looks like a proper Pitcher as he brings his arm and leg up, and releases like an elastic snapping back after being pulled too tight. The ball flies straight and narrow and Mark swings. He does, but it’s too slow. Much too slow. Especially up against a fastball like that.

The ball hits the fence with a small clink. Mark watches it roll back toward him.

“And that wasn’t even my fastest throw,” Donghyuck calls to him. “Shame. Pass it back.”

Mark does, and he does with a little more strength than needed. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind, though. He simply catches it and moves back into position.

“No knuckleball?” Mark asks. That’s the one he wants to see. The one that started it all.

Raising a brow, Donghyuck says, “You think you’re worthy of that again? Let’s see, Prez.”

The pitch he gets is another fastball. At least, that’s what he thinks. He watches the way Donghyuck winds up, how his form moves. It shouldn’t be as distracting as it is, but Mark has always had an appreciation for people who master the art of baseball and Donghyuck definitely has the pitch mastered.

Which is not the best for Mark.

Because while he’s swinging for a fastball, he realizes that he’s swung too hard, too high, and the ball isn’t moving as fast as he thought it was.

Fuck. Fuck. Mark looks to Donghyuck, who is looking smug beyond belief, and Mark wants to wipe it off his face. A fucking changeup.

He remembers when his father used to go on about them. A good Pitcher knows how to throw a changeup with it appearing like a fastball and yet it’s at a slower velocity, tricking the batter into putting more energy into their swing. His father hated them just because he found them the most frustrating.

Mark can attest to that.

Just how many pitches does Donghyuck have up his sleeve?

“What is it, Prez? Regretting your choice to challenge me?” calls Donghyuck. So fucking smug.

“No one likes a gloater.”

“And no one like a petty loser, yet here we are.”

Mark raises the bat. “Again.”

Digging his toe into the dirt, Donghyuck says, “You get one more shot. You think you can do it?”

“Shut up and throw.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “If you say so.”

The thing is, Mark isn’t usually this competitive. Sure, he likes to win. He likes the thrill of not really knowing the final outcome, but, my god, he’s never felt the need to crush someone so hard in his life.

He can’t prepare. He knows that. If Donghyuck has three pitches in his arsenal, then who’s to say there aren’t more coming out. Everything in him wants to hit the ball, to collapse that smile that’s somehow permanently glued itself to Donghyuck’s lips.

So, he tries. He watches with his heart pounding as the ball leaves Donghyuck’s fingers. It flies toward him and he swings. At the last moment, the ball swoops, and all Mark can hear is it slamming against the chain linked fence behind him. He doesn’t look back at it, body frozen with the bat still out after the swing.

Donghyuck peels the glove off and flexes his fingers. When he looks up, his eyes are bright. “Hm, pity. You wanted a knuckleball and you couldn’t even hit it.”

“You—” Mark cuts himself off, unsure of what he wants to really say. All the words get caught up in his throat. Lowering the bat, he finds himself completely speechless. Then, with a little more effort than he’d prefer, he says, “We never settled on what you’d get if you won.”

Tossing the glove over to Mark—it hits at his feet, kicking up a small cloud of dirt—Donghyuck says, “You don’t ask me to join again.”

Mark opens his mouth, ready to defend himself, when another voice calls out. They all turn at the sound of Donghyuck’s name. Standing near the edge of the bleachers is Donghyuck’s friend. His black hair hangs in his eyes as he studies them all.

“Yo, Renjun!” Lucas shouts, giving a large wave. When Mark raises a brow at him, Lucas explains, “He’s in my study period.”

Renjun quickly adverts his gaze from Lucas and settles on Donghyuck. “What are you doing?”

“Injunnie,” Donghyuck coos. Renjun’s eyebrows draw together at the tone. “Just having some fun.”

“You said you were done with this,” says Renjun.

The spark in Donghyuck’s eyes falls cold and dark and he straightens. His voice comes out far too seriously as he says, “I am. I’m just fooling around.” He looks to Mark and calls, “Remember our deal, Prez. It was nice whooping your ass.”

Mark watches as Donghyuck steps off the mound and meanders over to his friend. He tosses an arm around Renjun’s shoulder and leads him away, around the bleachers and out of sight. He barely registers the team surrounding him before Lucas speaks up and breaks the silence.

“Wow, what was that about?”

Mark wishes he knew. He wishes he understood all of what happened, but he doesn’t even know himself. All he knows is that his hope of having an actual Pitcher, one who knows what he’s doing, has just gone down the drain.

“Mark? You okay?” Jeno asks, softly.

Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? He thinks he is, but he also thinks he isn’t.

Playing against Donghyuck, while exceedingly frustrating due to Donghyuck’s attitude, was actually kind of exhilarating. Maybe, at the time, it felt annoying, but he wants to do it again. And again. He wants Donghyuck to pitch until he finally hits the ball. How satisfying that would be.

But there’s no way that would happen. Not with Donghyuck laying down his end of the deal and Mark has no choice but to accept it.

“Come on,” Jaemin whispers, tugging on his sleeve. “We still have an hour before we all leave.”

Nodding, Mark turns to hand YangYang the bat. “Right. Um, up to bat.”

YangYang offers him a two-fingered salute and races off to stand at Homeplate. Lucas hands Mark the ball. It weighs heavily in his hand. Even as he steps up on the Pitcher’s mound, he keeps thinking back to the way Donghyuck held the same ball and managed to perform three different pitches with it. Something so small and he wielded it like a sword each time.

Closing his eyes, Mark sighs. Well, if he isn’t going to get Donghyuck to be their Pitcher, then he’s going to have to figure out how to do it himself.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the longer chapters so far (that I've written anyway) and phew it was something to get through haha But we're getting there folks!   
> In the meantime, enjoy some flustered Renjun moments and some Markhyuck bickering because...that'll happen a lot. Yeah, that's not going away haha
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Study period on Wednesday brings what it brings on any other day: a quiet corner in the library with his best friend missing. Donghyuck is always missing these days. Renjun used to worry, used to think up with all kinds of things Donghyuck could be getting himself in trouble with, but now he knows that Donghyuck just tends to wander, to keep away from people for the most part. Renjun doesn’t blame him.

Before him, he’s spread out all of his books and notes. They take up most of the table, for now. Once Donghyuck actually decides to show his face, Renjun will move over. Reluctantly, of course, but he’ll do it. Because that’s how their friendship is most of the time.

And that’s how Renjun would like to think he handled moving to a small town just to follow Donghyuck and start at a new school during his Junior year. Reluctantly. Except, it isn’t. He did it because he wanted to. Because he’d rather do all that than let Donghyuck handle it all on his own.

Learning a new environment—town and school—discovering new teachers and students and new lessons, has been nothing fun. Still, he does it anyway. Renjun is nothing if not determined. Especially when it comes to his best friend.

Who is still missing. He looks at his phone to check the time and a sigh escapes him.

He goes to text him when the chair across from him pulls out and Donghyuck drops into it. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He smiles at Renjun and slams his math textbook on the table. It’s for seniors. Donghyuck’s always been a bit of a genius even if he doesn’t act like it most of the time.

“Where have you been?” Renjun asks. “Out making fun of the school president again?”

Puffing out his cheeks, Donghyuck says, “One time. Just one time.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

“He was just so adamant and I thought I’d have some fun.”

“Helps that he’s kind of cute.”

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “Cute or not, I’m not joining his team. I’d rather take a bat to the head.”

Sighing, Renjun puts down his pencil, links his fingers together, and gives Donghyuck his undivided attention. “I get it. I do. But you love baseball. Why not just join and have some fun?”

He doesn’t get a response. Instead, Donghyuck busies himself with digging through his bag for god knows what. Probably a pencil. He always forgets those. Renjun grabs his spare and places it on top of Donghyuck’s textbook, stopping his movements and making him narrow his eyes at it.

“Don’t you miss it?” he asks.

“No.”

It’s a lie and they both know it. The flush has left Donghyuck’s cheeks and he’s doing that thing again where he keeps biting at them from the inside, sucking them in until they look hollow.

“Why would I even want to play for this shitty school?” he asks. “They haven’t won a championship game in, like, a hundred years—”

“I think it was five.”

“—And their team knows nothing. Well, Prez seems to know a bit, but that’s hardly enough for the whole collection of them. It would just be sad to watch them.”

“I think you’re making excuses. Besides, if you were on the team then maybe they’d do better.”

Donghyuck frowns. “Don’t, Renjun. Just don’t.”

The expression on his face is tired, full of resignation. There’s no fight, no fire. It’s so unlike Donghyuck that Renjun nods and presses his lips together.

He goes to check his notes when a loud, boisterous laugh catches his attention. He may have only been at SM High for about a week, but he’s learned a few things. One of them is the laugh of a very tall, broad boy a year above them. It wasn’t even like he was trying to memorize it. It just sort of happened.

Somehow, over the course of his study periods, Renjun has managed to note a little too much about Wong Lucas. Maybe it’s because Lucas had been the first one to talk to Renjun other than his teachers. Or maybe it’s because his smile and his laugh was infectious and there was literally no escape from either of them.

It’s even stranger to think that Renjun doesn’t really understand why. He’s never been this interested in a person, never been so nervous around them. Back at his old school, he and Donghyuck were the pair that other students tended to veer away from. Maybe because of Renjun’s somewhat closed-off attitude, or Donghyuck’s penchant for trouble, or even just because their matching eyebrow piercings make them seem a little too rebellious for a perfect, uniform school—courtesy of Dongyuck’s mother’s sewing needle and his brother’s lighter. How they both didn’t get some kind of infection from it is beyond Renjun. Either way, the people in this small school are not all that different, so why is it that one boy has managed to make Renjun think of nothing but him.

It’s infuriating. 

Donghyuck follows his gaze and a smirk grows across his lips. “Ah, pretty boy is back.”

“Can you not?” Renjun grunts, adverting his attention to his notebook.

Unfortunately, it’s too late because the chair beside him moves. Renjun tenses all over when a long leg bumps into his. Renjun tenses all over. Slowly, he looks up to find Lucas smiling at him, teeth gleaming white. Okay, that’s not playing fair. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” Lucas asks, tossing his bag onto the table.

Renjun doesn’t know when they started to study together, why Lucas has even chosen to sit with him in the first place, when, clearly, he has other friends. Friends that sit at another table, on the other side of the room. He used to sit there when Renjun first started coming to the library and, slowly, he’s found home in the chair right beside him.

“M’fine.” He’s horrified to hear how breathless he sounds and he clears his throat when Donghyuck snorts. “I mean, good. I’m good. It’s going good.”

A laugh bubbles out of him, completely good naturedly. “That’s good. I’m glad.” When he looks to Donghyuck, Renjun buries his face in his hands. “You,” he states, “know how to pitch. Where did you learn to do that?”

The expression Donghyuck makes is the face he makes when he doesn’t want to talk about something. Jaw tense and eyebrows threatening to pull together into a frown. Somehow, he manages a tight smile with a half-shrug. “Played around a bit. Your team is interesting.”

“Still new,” Lucas admits. “But we’ll get there. Mark’s a good teacher. He’s super stressed, though. This has been a whole thing since his freshman year.”

“What thing?” Renjun finds himself asking.

“He wanted to be on the team when he got here. Made his mom switch his schools just to do it and everything. But the team was already disbanded by the time he arrived. He’s been working every year to get it back. Now that he has, he wants to keep it going for as long as he can.” He looks to Donghyuck, almost helplessly. “You sure you don’t want to join?”

Donghyuck crosses his arms and frowns. “Did he send you since I told him to leave me alone?”

“No!” Eyes blown wide, Lucas raises his hands in mock surrender. “Of course not. He doesn’t even know I’m here right now. But, seriously, we could use someone with your skills. Mark would be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Donghyuck mutters. “That’s nice and all, but I’m not interested.”

“What about you?”

Renjun doesn’t realize the question is directed at him until Donghyuck raises a brow. “Oh, uh, me?”

“Yeah,” Lucas chuckles, softly. Renjun’s heart stutters, annoyingly. “You. Do you play?”

“I don’t…”

He glances at Donghyuck. It isn’t that Renjun doesn’t play. He does. Just not in a general sense. Never in games. He’s not like Donghyuck was. And if Donghyuck isn’t going to play, then Renjun doesn’t want to. For a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he doesn’t want to do the one thing that Donghyuck has set his heart on avoiding. Not unless Donghyuck changes his tune.

Still, he can’t stand the way Lucas is staring at him. It’s so open and honest and, _shit_ , Lucas is handsome. “I don’t really play,” he says, albeit a little weakly.

Wow, he really needs to figure out his shit because this is pathetic.

“Please? It’ll be really fun. We just need two more players,” says Lucas. “And even if you don’t know how to play, you won’t be the only one. Some of us have never played before, at all.”

“I’m not sure—”

“Just come to the practice. I swear you’ll have fun.”

The smile he gets is bright and wide and it makes Renjun’s cheeks feel warm. He’s not sure anyone’s ever smiled at him like that. He’s so used to people sneering at him. Or not paying him any mind, period. He’s not all that special, so he has no idea why Lucas has set his attention on him.

Renjun shifts in his seat. “Well, I don’t—”

“Please?”

Oh, for the love of god. How is he supposed to say no to those eyes? Worrying his lip, Renjun looks to Donghyuck and then back at Lucas. “S-Sure. Okay.”

Lucas throws his fist in the air and Renjun has to flinch back to not be hit. “Yes! I’ll see you tomorrow then. After school. On the diamond!” Suddenly, he’s scrambling his things up.

“Wait, where are you going?” Renjun asks.

Throwing his bag over his shoulder, Lucas beams. “To tell Mark. I’ll see you!”

Renjun watches him go, mouth open and mind confused. “What just happened?”

“You, my friend, are a total loser,” Donghyuck snorts. “You just joined a team. For a boy.”

“Oh, _god_.” He drops his face into his hands and groans, not caring if it draws attention. “Fuck me.”

“I’ll leave that to Lucas, thank you very much.”

Renjun glowers at him. “Shut the fuck up. You were zero help.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Donghyuck questions.

“I don’t know! Stop me, maybe?” He slams his head on the table. “This is the worst. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“You’re whipped?”

“Not helping, Hyuck.”

Sighing, Donghyuck pokes him until he sits up, lower lip sticking out in a pout. “Look, it’s not all bad. At least this way you’ll get more time with him. It’s been ages since you’ve actually liked someone.”

“I don’t like him,” he grumbles.

Donghyuck raises a brow. “Sure. Yep. Of course, you don’t. You just joined the baseball team for a boy you hate. Sounds reasonable.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too, man.” Leaning back in his seat, Donghyuck shrugs and adds, “You can always go after him and say no.”

Renjun shakes his head. “Do you know how rude that would be? I can’t do that to him. Lucas is a puppy. Don’t make me kick a puppy, Hyuck.”

“Good lord, he turns you into a softy. I hate it. Come back to me before you start shitting out rainbows and puking up sparkles.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“And you’re whipped,” he repeats, pressing the words out. “Does he give you butterflies? Does he make your heart flutter? I mean, I already know that he turns you into a mindless, wordless pile of mush—Ow! Fuck!”

Renjun glares at him, not even sorry for kicking him in the shin. “You know, a little support would be nice considering everything I’ve done for you.”

It’s a low blow and he knows it. Donghyuck immediately looks down, all taunts dying on his tongue. The table goes silent. Renjun hates it.

“I can’t do this alone,” he says, leaning over the table to try and get Donghyuck to look him in the eye again. “Come with me.”

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “No. No, Renjun. I said no.”

“Please, Donghyuck. Please? I can’t go to this practice by myself. Who knows what’ll happen? You don’t have to join. Just be there with me.” Donghyuck remains tightlipped. “You love baseball. Don’t throw it away because of what happened. That’s so unfair to you.”

There’s a moment when Renjun is sure that Donghyuck is simply going to ignore him. It would be expected, all things considered. But then he meets Renjun’s gaze with dark eyes and says, “Fine. I’ll come.”

“Thank you,” he breathes, relief flowing through him.

“I’m not joining. Just staying for moral support. Got it?”

Renjun nods. “Deal. Who knows, though. You may find something there worth staying for.”

Snorting, Donghyuck opens up his math textbook. “Yeah, right.”

*

Mark knew Renjun was coming to practice because Lucas had excitedly told him so yesterday. What he didn’t know was that Lee Fucking Donghyuck would be coming, too.

“You said Renjun,” he hisses.

Beside him, Lucas shrugs, a grin permanently glued on his lips since he arrived. Mark isn’t sure he’s ever seen Lucas not smiling. He wonders what horrors would have to occur to get that to happen.

“I didn’t know he was bringing Donghyuck, but isn’t that a good thing?” asks Lucas. “Don’t we want him on the team?”

Oh, Mark wants him on the team as much as he doesn’t want him on the team. It’s the most conflicting feeling he’s ever felt in his life, all knotted up in his chest. Sure, he wants a good player, someone who knows what they’re doing, but, _god_ , he doesn’t want that attitude and razor-sharp tongue anywhere near him. He wants this team to be his getaway, his dream. Not his nightmare.

So, as he watches Lucas go over to greet Renjun and Donghyuck, Mark can’t help but think that things are going to get much more complicated than he originally planned.

Dark eyes snap to his.

Yeah, definitely more complicated.

Lucas waves Mark over and he does so, rather grudgingly. He purposefully ignores Donghyuck in favor for his friend. Much like Mark and Lucas, Renjun’s changed out of his yellow and black uniform and into a pair of grey sweatpants and a long-sleeved white shirt. It’s one of the options for their gym uniform. Against the pale, dull colors, Renjun looks even whiter than when Mark met him before. Not that he can say much. He, himself, is the color of the moon most days. But it makes his shock of black hair stand out and, when he brushes the fringe back to look Mark in the eye, it also brings out the gold piercing that runs right through one of his eyebrows. It makes him think of the silver one that sits through Donghyuck, but he refuses to look for it.

“Hey, I’m Mark,” he introduces, putting out a hand for Renjun to shake.

“Renjun.” His voice is a little raspier than he expects, and a lot quieter. “Nice to meet you.”

Keeping his attention on Renjun seems to be a lot harder than he expects it to be because Donghyuck is shifting out of the corner of his eye, still dressed in their bright yellow uniform, and it’s distracting.

“Have you ever played before?” Mark asks, tentatively. Clearly, Donghyuck has, but there’s no way for him to know if Renjun’s just as experienced.

Renjun’s gaze flicks to Donghyuck for a moment, just a brief second, before saying, “I know how to play—”

“He can play.” All of Mark’s effort to not look at Donghyuck fails the moment he hears his voice. Arms crossed over his chest, Donghyuck stares back at him and jerks his chin toward Renjun. “Renjun,” he elaborates. “He can play.”

Mark slides his gaze back over to Renjun to really take him in. He’s shorter than Mark, shorter than all of them, and slight. There isn’t a lot of weight on him, at all, which makes Mark curious because if Renjun can play, he should have some form of muscle on his legs or his arms, but everything is thin and almost fragile. Then, he catches Renjun’s eye and he thinks that he may look fragile, but those sharp, narrowed eyes are anything but. Then again, he’s friends with Donghyuck.

“Do you have a position?” he asks.

“No,” Renjun says. “I just…play.”

Well, that’s interesting, he thinks. He wonders how good he is, if he’s like Donghyuck and will pull tricks out of his sleeve. But before he can say anything else about it, he hears the swelling of chatter and laughter and Jeno, YangYang, Chenle, and Jisung come around the bleachers, dressed in joggers and t-shirts.

Mark is quick to note that Jaemin isn’t with them. In fact, he hasn’t seen Jaemin since lunch. No texts, no nothing. So, when Jeno steps up beside him, eyeing Renjun and Donghyuck, Mark elbows him to get his attention and ask.

“He said he would be late,” Jeno tells him. “I’m not sure what he’s doing.”

Great, he thinks. “All right. That’s fine,” he says. “Um, you up to leading the stretches?”

Jeno nods, claps to get everyone’s attention, and leads them into a jog around the diamond. In the meantime, he beckons Renjun to follow him toward the dugout. Annoyingly, Donghyuck comes with them.

Once they get there, Donghyuck is the first to sit down, flopping onto the bench. The place, thanks to Jaemin, Jeno, and Jisung, looks better than it did before. Cleaner. But part of him wishes there were still spiders so that they could land on Donghyuck’s head.

Renjun puts his bag down. “Should I join?”

Glancing at the rest of the team doing laps, Mark says, “Yeah, in a second. I just want to make sure you actually want to do this.”

Frowning, he asks, “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“That’s good,” he replies, sighing in relief. “In that case, uh, feel free to join in the warm-up.”

Renjun turns to Donghyuck, hisses something that sounds like ‘Don’t leave’, and jogs off to meet the rest of the team. Lucas greets him with a beaming smile.

“You’re lucky,” says Donghyuck, his voice snatching at Mark’s attention yet again. When Mark raises a brow, he adds, “Renjun is a good player.”

“You were on a team together?”

Donghyuck crosses his arms again and Mark’s starting to think it’s some kind of defense mechanism, some kind of indication that he is stepping into territory that Donghyuck would rather avoid.

Still, he says, “Yeah. Renjun never got to play. He’s good, though.”

“And you still won’t join?”

Eyes snap to his. “We had a deal.”

“I’m not asking you to join. I’m just checking,” Mark says with a roll of his eyes. “Why are you even here?”

“Moral support,” says Donghyuck. “Your friend, Lucas, convinced Renjun to join and he doesn’t want to be alone. Hence, you get my wonderful presence until this thing is over.”

“Lovely,” he mutters, sarcasm dripping from the word. Just what he wants. “Well, feel free to watch. Just keep your comments to yourself this time.”

“No promises, Prez.”

Mark sighs and steps out of the dugout. He decides to join in on the jog and the stretches and he spends his time focusing on the way Chenle talks to Jisung quietly and the way YangYang and Lucas switch to Mandarin when they excitedly find out Renjun can speak it, too. It’s a desperate excuse to ignore the heavy gaze from the dugout that digs into the back of his head.

He knows Donghyuck is watching. He doesn’t need to look to know. Any player would eye another, just to sus out the competition. Even if the player doesn’t play anymore. Mark knows that if Donghyuck were on this diamond, he would be watching him, trying to pick up anything he could.

Regardless, it’s nerve-wracking and stress-inducing.

In the end, however, it doesn’t really matter because they end up near the dugout again, anyway. Mostly because that’s where everyone’s water bottles are. And once they’re there, there’s nothing to stop anyone from talking to Donghyuck, which means there’s nothing to stop Donghyuck from talking right back.

“Your pitches are wild,” Chenle says, leaning on the halfway to speak to Donghyuck. “A changeup and a knuckleball? Dude, how? You _need_ to show me.”

“What’s a knuckleball?” asks Jisung, quietly.

“One of the hardest pitches to throw,” replies Chenle. The look he gives Donghyuck is full of awe and wonder. “It’s basically unpredictable because it doesn’t have much spin.”

“It causes the ball to go from a laminar to a turbulent flow,” adds Renjun.

Jisung furrows his brow and tilts his head. “A what now?”

“From a straight line to a more fluid one,” explains Donghyuck. “Makes it hard to hit, control, and catch.”

“So why even bother? If it’s so uncontrollable, I mean?” YangYang questions.

Donghyuck smirks. “ _Because_ it’s unpredictable. It fakes out the batters. Even the catcher. It looks like any other throw until the very end.”

“The only downside is that, the more you use it, the more people start to expect it,” Renjun says. “That’s why it’s best to leave it until the last moment.”

“Like on Tuesday?’ Jisung inquires. “When Donghyuck pitched it last and it threw Mark off?”

Mark knows that it’s an innocent question, that they’re all just trying to figure it out because they don’t know any better, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying to be reminded of his small match with Donghyuck. Especially when Donghyuck’s smirk is aimed in his direction, suddenly.

“That was definitely fun, wasn’t it, Prez?” Donghyuck asks, raising a brow.

Mark’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, fun.”

Resting his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands, Donghyuck says, “Aw, come on, don’t be like that. It was just a game. No reason to be so bitter about it.”

“I’m not bitter.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“Donghyuck,” Renjun warns.

“What?” He leans back on the bench. “I’m just saying.”

Clicking his tongue, Mark sets down his water bottle before asking, “What did I say about keeping comments to yourself?”

“I made no promises, Prez. And I’m just teasing. Relax before you implode.”

Imploding sounds like a relief if he doesn’t have to deal with Donghyuck anymore. Every time he hears his voice, Mark’s jaw tightens. Maybe just from the sheer sound. Maybe from anticipation. He never knows what Donghyuck is going to say, just that it’s going to try to push his buttons. And, boy, does he push Mark’s buttons.

“Come on, Mark,” Jeno mutters beside him. “Let’s just practice.”

Yeah, he’d like that. He’d like it even more if Donghyuck just left. Still, he can’t tell him to leave. Not when Renjun is here, expecting Donghyuck to stay and be a support figure.

“Renjun, how’s your batting?” he asks.

Renjun, obviously not expecting to be spoken to, startles. “Um, good?”

“Great,” he steps into the dugout to grab the bat and hands it over, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

But before Mark can step back out, Donghyuck pipes up with, “Are you pitching again?”

Twisting on his heel to face him head on, Mark grits out, “Yes. Why?”

“If you want to see Renjun’s full capability, you might want an actual Pitcher on the mound,” Donghyuck says.

“Too bad we don’t have one of those, isn’t it?” Mark snaps.

Sighing, Donghyuck stands up from the bench, brushes off his pants, and steps up next to Mark so their shoulders brush. His eyes glitter as he says, “How about I loan you a pitch, hm? What do you say, Prez?”

“I say that you want to play and you’re coming up with all the excuses to,” he says, causing Donghyuck to frown. “You won’t join, but you’ll do all this? Just to get on the diamond. Tell me, Donghyuck, how desperate are you?”

Donghyuck’s frown deepens, eyes sharpening. Before, Mark would have thought Donghyuck’s eyes were just black, like bits of coal. But up this close, with the sun hitting just right, there’s gold in there. Somehow, it feels fitting. Mark hates that he keeps noticing these things. The small, miniscule, needless things.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck says, not taking his eyes off Mark. “Get on the plate. And, you, Prez, sit and watch.”

Mark has no choice. Donghyuck snatches the ball from his hand and marches toward the Pitcher’s mound. Bat in hand, Renjun follows after him. And there, right there, something has shifted in both of them. Confidence, maybe. As if the moment they stepped on the diamond something clicked between the two of them that says ‘Ah, yes, this is how it works’.

Renjun, quiet and observant, flexes his arms and brings the bat up. He meets Donghyuck’s gaze and gives a short nod.

Now, Mark’s seen people get into the zone. It’s easy to spot the more he watches everyone around him, but the way Donghyuck shifts, ready to pitch, is shockingly noticeable. Maybe it’s the way his eyes narrow slightly, the way his shoulders straighten, the way his feet find their place, grounding him. Donghyuck goes from a ridiculous, annoying, asshole to _this_. Serious and, perhaps, downright professional.

It’s startling.

With one glance to Mark, as though he’s making sure that he really is watching, Donghyuck winds up and releases. The ball is a blur as it speeds toward Renjun, who doesn’t hesitate. He hits the ball and it goes flying. Up and over in a perfect arc. Donghyuck watches it go with a faint smirk on his face and when it hits the ground—YangYang running to grab it—he looks to Mark with another infuriating smirk.

Donghyuck holds out his glove for YangYang to make a pass. It isn’t perfect, but it’s clear he’s been practicing and Mark likes to see the way they’re all leaning so quickly.

“Just you wait, Prez,” Donghyuck calls to him, digging his toe into the mound. “This one is a doozy.”

And it is. It fucking is and Mark can’t say anything, can’t do anything, but stand there with his mouth gaping as Donghyuck’s pitch flies true and straight, before dipping at the end—another fucking knuckleball—and all Renjun does is shift a bit to his right, swing hard and—

He hits it.

Solid.

The ball doesn’t go up in a perfectly straight arc, but it does stay in bounds and that’s all that matters. Lowering the bat, Renjun looks to Donghyuck and shrugs. As if it wasn’t his best hit. As if he could do better. But fucking hell, Renjun just hit a knuckleball and didn’t even break a sweat.

Before he can say anything, form proper words, Donghyuck is suddenly in front of him. He under-hands the ball and Mark catches it, fumbling slightly.

“I told you he could play,” he says as he skirts around Mark to drop back onto the bench inside the dugout.

And he can. They both can. Mark wants them both on his team and, sure, he has one of them, but the other…The other sits there with his arms crossed, long legs out, staring at him with a glint in his eye because he knows. He knows exactly what he’s done and what Mark wants and he isn’t going to give it to him.

This is a game to him.

Mark’s blood boils for all kinds of reasons he can’t place.

When Renjun leans the bat against the wall of the dugout, Lucas is the first one to talk. “That was incredible!”

A flush fills out over Renjun’s cheekbones. It’s an odd sort of sight, but not unwarranted. Getting a compliment so unabashed from someone like Lucas can be a lot, Mark thinks.

“It’s nothing,” Renjun says.

Judging by the snort that escapes Donghyuck, Mark is starting to think that this quiet, almost humble version of Renjun isn’t exactly normal. And when Renjun shoots Donghyuck a glare out of the corner of his eye, all cold and filled with warning, it only helps prove the point.

“But it is!” exclaims Lucas. “Even Mark couldn’t hit that. How did you do it?”

“I just—It’s, um—I—” Renjun cuts himself off by looking back to Donghyuck for help, but all he gets is a shrug. “I practice with Donghyuck. After a while, hitting them isn’t so hard.”

_Hitting them isn’t so hard._

Mark frowns. If only that were the case for everyone. If only that were the case for him. He’d kill to land a solid hit to a pitch like that. Every baseball player dreams of that.

“So, looks like you have your ninth player, Prez,” Donghyuck says. “Too bad you’re still one short.”

“You could join,” Chenle says and Donghyuck tenses. “Why not? I mean, you’re good. And we could use the help. Why not join?”

“Because I don’t want to, kid.”

It’s Renjun’s turn to snort and Donghyuck’s turn to glare at him. Mark’s starting to think that’s the basis of their friendship.

“Besides,” Donghyuck continues. “Doubt Prez over here really wants me on the team. Right?”

Mark grits his teeth. That conflicting feeling fills his chest again. God, where is Jaemin when he needs him? Jaemin would know what to say, what to do. Now, Mark’s left wondering if he should put himself through hell just to have a decent team or not.

The thing is, if Donghyuck does join, he’ll be the Pitcher. Which means he’ll be a part of the Battery. Which means he’ll be the other half to Mark’s coin since he’s pretty sure he’ll be Catcher. And, in all honesty, Mark doesn’t trust Donghyuck as far as he can throw him and trust is kind of important in a Battery relationship. It requires listening and communicating. Mark doesn’t think Donghyuck can do that. Not with him. Not with the way they are, right now.

It makes him wonder who Donghyuck’s Catcher was when he played before because, well, clearly, he played. He had to have been on a team. All that talent with no release would be stupid. So, who put up with him? Who was his partner and how did they handle it? Or maybe they didn’t and that’s why Donghyuck is here, at a new school with new people.

The shroud of mystery is almost as irritating as the way Donghyuck raises his pierced brow, waiting for Mark to reply.

“You’re infuriating,” Mark states, almost as if he can’t stop himself.

Jeno sighs.

“Why, thank you,” drawls Donghyuck. “I work hard on that.”

Mark can feel the rest of the team watching, their eyes bouncing between the two of them like it’s some sort of tennis game and now the ball is in Mark’s court. The worst part is that Mark doesn’t want to play.

So, he throws up his hands and says, “Nope. No. You can leave. I don’t need you on the team.”

Oh, how wrong he is. And he knows that. But, fucking hell, he can’t keep dealing with this shit. He already has to deal with Jaemin. He doesn’t think he can handle Donghyuck. Not without losing his sanity in the long run.

“Well, you heard your captain,” Donghyuck says as he stands up. “He doesn’t want me.”

Jeno is quick to jump in. “No, he does. He does. We need another person and he knows you’re the best.”

“Does he now?” Donghyuck’s grin is sharp and smug. Mark decides he hates him. “Too bad. I don’t want to do it. Have fun, Injunnie. See you tomorrow.”

“You can’t leave,” Renjun tells him. “You said you’d stay.”

“No, I said I would go with you. Never said I would stay until the end. Besides, you’re fine.”

Renjun wrinkles his nose. “I hate you.”

“Love you, too.” Donghyuck steps out of the dugout once more. When the sun hits off his hair, he glows. “See you.”

“Are you scared?” Mark asks. “Is that why you won’t join?”

Stopping short, Donghyuck turns toward him. “Scared? What could I possibly be scared of?”

“You tell me. I’m not the one constantly coming back. I’m certainly not the one who refuses to play when you so clearly want to. You can’t even stop yourself from pitching, can you? You laugh at me and what I’m doing, but you want it just as bad as I do. I can tell.”

“You’re full of shit,” Donghyuck hisses.

He coughs a laugh. “Am I? Because I think _you_ are. You _want_ to play. Even an idiot could tell.”

“I think you’re missing the point.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, Donghyuck says, “I’m here because I’m curious. Not because I want to play.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t be pulling pitches like that if you hated baseball. You’d be running in the opposite direction.”

“Ever thought that I like baseball, but I hate teams?”

Mark shakes his head. “You have years of experience under your belt. And you clearly like showing off your skills. You wouldn’t hone those in the shadows. I’m willing to bet you were on a team for a while. So, Donghyuck, who the fuck hurt you enough that you resorted to this? Desperate to play, but too scared to actually do it.”

It’s a split second. A blink. But Mark catches it. He catches the way Donghyuck’s eyes darken, his body flinches as if he’s been slapped. Except, it doesn’t stay for long because Donghyuck schools his features so fast that Mark wonders if he ever saw it to begin with.

“Fuck you,” Donghyuck grits out. Then, spinning on his heel, he marches off.

Sighing, Renjun says, “You should have just let him go.”

Mark gapes. “So, he can come back and taunt me some more? He’s an asshole.”

“He is. But he has his reasons. I’m going to go talk to him. I’ll be back.”

The team lets him rush out after Donghyuck, tension sitting on their shoulders. Mark isn’t sure if he should feel guilty or not, but, _god_ , he just couldn’t stop himself. He’s never had someone irk him so badly before.

“Wow, Mark,” Lucas breathes. “You really laid it on him.”

“To be fair, Donghyuck was being a bit much,” Jeno says, softly. “At least, now, you won’t have to worry about him coming back. I think you sufficiently chased him off.”

Mark sighs. This wasn’t what he was expecting when he came out onto the diamond today. It isn’t even what he expected when he started this whole team. It was supposed to be easy. Grab a couple of players, get a coach, play in a tournament. It was never supposed to be this complicated.

Yet, here he is.

The yellow of Donghyuck’s uniform vanishes around the bleachers and Mark’s heart flops. He’s never been a mean person. Never acted out of anger. And now that he has, he doesn’t know what to do. He knows, at some point, he’s going to have to apologize.

He hates that. He hates that his guilt is already sinking in, so fast that it floods him.

“Nana is going to be upset he missed this,” Jeno mutters.

Mark just wishes there wasn’t anything to miss in the first place.

*

Jaehyun watches as one of the boys races off after the other boy in the SM High uniform Jaehyun had wanted to burn after graduating. He grips at the fence, replaying the pitch and hit over and over. It was good. Amazing even. He hasn’t seen someone hit a knuckleball since he was in school. Since he was the one hitting it. Whoever those two are, they have skill and a lot of it.

The rest of the team fans out. One of the boys hands the bat off to another and they head over to Homeplate. It’s interesting to see because Jaehyun can spot keen learners from a mile away and they’re that. That much he can pick up. They listen well. They attempt without fear. They have no idea what they’re doing, but they’re trying.

It makes Jaehyun’s heart ache. Back when he was on the team, that was all they did. Try and try and try. And by the time he was a senior, he knew what he was doing, but he still tried, if only to keep proving himself and make his coach proud.

“They have potential, don’t they?” Jaemin asks, a red lollipop sticking out between his lips.

Jaehyun blames his brother. If it hadn’t been for Jaemin, he wouldn’t have even known to come to SM High. Wouldn’t have seen what just happened on the diamond. Deep down, he yearns to go there. A large part of him, however, is still bitter and feels even more bitter that he was convinced without much of a fight.

Of course, had he known Jaemin wanted to show him this, he would have turned it down right away. Jaehyun isn’t into self-punishment like this. He might miss baseball, but he also hates what it’s done to his life. He wouldn’t put himself through watching this kind of thing on his own. He would have just stayed away completely.

Jaemin had showed up after school and practically dragged him out of the house, saying he wanted to go to the store and Jaehyun owed him. Owed him because he had wasted too many days in his room without even bothering to spend time with his little brother. Jaehyun had felt a little guilty and agreed to go.

He should have stayed home.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asks.

Shrugging, Jaemin takes the lollipop out of his mouth and says, “Because you need to see how much we need a coach.”

“I already said no.”

“You did. I think you’re stupid to.”

Jaehyun turns away from the diamond, just as the boy at Homeplate swings the bat and bunts the ball away.

“I’m not a coach,” he says.

And he isn’t. He doesn’t know the first thing about coaching. He’s never taught anyone in his life. It’s always been the other way around. Coaches, upperclassmen, his parents. They all taught _him_. Teaching a bunch of kids is something he certainly isn’t qualified for.

“You aren’t much of anything, right now.”

It should sting, those words. They really should. But Jaemin, much to Jaehyun’s annoyance, is right. Jaehyun hasn’t been much of anything since he got back to town. Maybe even before that. He’s been coasting through life without a clue. Without a purpose.

The irksome part is that Jaemin knows this. Jaemin always seems to know.

“If we had your guidance,” Jaemin says, slowly, “we could do so much more.”

He notices one of the boys—he seems to be trying to teach them, all of them—head over to Jeno and speak to him. Jeno’s older now, much like Jaemin. Even at a distance, he can tell. It’s odd to realize that five years have gone by and, sometimes, it really is obvious when he pays attention. Some days, he can pretend time hasn’t gone by, at all.

Gesturing to the boy, he says, “He seems to know what he’s doing.”

Jaemin follows his gaze. There’s a quirk in his lips, stained red from the lollipop. “That’s Mark. He’s captain. He’s the only one who really knows how to play. I mean, other than the two that were just there. But the one—the one that pitched—he doesn’t want to join.”

“Why not?”

“Stubbornness? Maybe something happened? Who knows,” he pauses to cast Jaehyun a knowing look, “maybe he’s like you and he just needs a reason to get back into it.”

The thing is, even if they had potential, even if he wanted to help them, there isn’t much he can do about it. Jaehyun doesn’t teach and he doesn’t even know if he _can_ help them. Half the time he can’t even help himself.

And they want to win. Jaehyun isn’t a winner. Not anymore.

The boy in the joggers, the one who left, comes back and that’s when Jaehyun decides to leave. There isn’t anything else he can do.

“Where are you going?” calls Jaemin.

“Home.”

“But don’t you want to meet them? Don’t you want to try?”

Jaehyun stops to look over his shoulder. “No, I don’t. I want to go home.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Jaemin snaps. “You realize that, don’t you? Baseball was your life. You loved it. I bet you still do. And we need someone like you to teach us. We have no idea what we’re doing. And if you can’t help then we don’t get to play.”

“I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”

And he means it. He does. Jaemin is his brother, whether or not they grew up together, whether or not they share parents, whether or not Jaehyun left him for almost five years. So, yeah, Jaehyun wants to help him. He just knows that if he tries, he won’t be of much use, in the end.

Jaemin shoves the lollipop back in his mouth, eyes narrowed into a glare. Around it, he says, “You’re a lot of things, Jaehyun, but I never thought you were a coward.”

With that, Jaemin starts off around the fence, around the tennis courts, and toward his friends. It doesn’t matter what Jaemin says, what he thinks, Jaehyun can’t help them. Setting his jaw, he turns around and starts for home.

*

It’s later that night, when he spots Jaemin curled up on the couch with a baseball manual on his lap, that it hits him.

Jaemin, who doesn’t even like sports, who hated kicking a ball around with Jaehyun when they were kids, is learning how to play baseball. He’s willing to put aside his dislike for competition, just to make his friends happy. It’s strange because Jaehyun knows that doing something like that is in Jaemin’s character, but watching it unfold, to see how much effort he’s putting into making this team work, is kind of impressive.

Jaehyun can’t help but connect baseball to everything that ruined his life. It’s hard not to. It had been such an important thing. He did it daily. He formed all kinds of relationships around it. And then it became the reason he struggled, the reason he had to change post-high school plans so fast. Not to mention, it reminds Jaehyun of the one person he would much rather forget.

And, yet, watching those kids play today just made him want to join. Even if it meant walking down the same path again, even if it meant uprooting horrible memories. There was so much potential on that diamond. From the kid that pitched, to the one at bat, to the one that was trying his best to teach them all, to even the ones that had no idea what they were doing.

Jaehyun remembers watching the freshman come in, all green and eager. He knows what potential looks like because he’s seen it flourish. In others and himself.

Maybe, if things had gone the way he had expected them to, he would be their coach already. He’d be back from some kind of tour on an actual baseball team, helping out his kid brother while on break.

The thought makes his chest ache.

Dreams, he thinks, really can slip through fingers so quickly. One bad game and his future was set. And, in that one bad game, he decided it was over. There was no point.

But maybe Jaemin is right and maybe he is just a coward at the end of the day. Someone too scared to try.

“Hey,” he says, as he drops down beside Jaemin.

Jaemin startles, blonde hair falling into his eyes when he looks over. “Oh, hey.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “I’m sorry I can’t be of much help.”

Jaemin sighs, closing the book. “I think you could be. You know, Mark? He idolizes you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” he laughs. “He saw your game against JY Prep and was desperate to join the team. By the time he became a freshman, the team wasn’t running anymore. Every year, he goes out of his way to practically beg to the teachers to let him start up a baseball team again. This year, they finally let him. It’s too bad he won’t get to see us actually go to a tournament.”

“Wait,” Jaehyun shifts on the couch, frowning slightly. “He saw the one we lost and wanted to join? Why?”

“Said you guys were the best team,” Jaemin says. “Just having a bad day. He’s not wrong.”

“No,” he mutters. “He’s not.”

Tilting his head, Jaemin says, “He saw a lot in you back then. And he sees a lot in the team now. I’m sure you could, too, when you watched them today. If you helped us, we might actually have a chance of winning Nationals and keep the team going. That’s what Mark wants.”

“That’s a lot of games,” Jaehyun points out.

“A lot.”

“And a lot of you aren’t ready.”

“Not even close.” Jaemin leans back on the couch and grins. “But, if we make it, we might play against JY Prep again. And wouldn’t that just be fun? A redo, in a way.”

Jaehyun can’t even stop the laugh that bubbles out of his throat. “You’re really searching for all the angles, aren’t you?”

“Tell me you wouldn’t thoroughly enjoy whooping their asses after what happened?”

And, once again, Jaemin isn’t wrong.

Rolling his eyes, Jaehyun says, “Fine. Fine, I’ll help you.”

Jaemin shoots up like he’s been electrocuted, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “Wait, actually? Really? You aren’t kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding.” He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to pick his words correctly. “Look, I can’t promise I can help. I can’t promise I can get you through even one game. But I want to help you as best I can.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“Let’s just say you’re stupidly persuasive to the point of annoying.” His reply earns him a kick in the leg and he laughs. “Really, though. You’re a good brother, Nana.”

Jaemin’s ears go red and he shoves at Jaehyun. “Oh, shut up. Don’t be cringey.”

“Oh, yeah?” He hooks an arm around Jaemin’s neck and yanks him closer, setting him in a headlock. Jaemin squeals. “Who’s cringey, huh? Who?”

“Let me go!”

“Not until you admit that I’m the best big brother you’ve ever had!”

“Never!”

Jaehyun lets himself laugh, lets himself relax, because, like this, things feel right. For once, in five years, he feels happy and, yeah, Jaemin has a lot to do with that. Quite a bit, actually. Granted, he’s not going to admit it to Jaemin—not completely, anyway. The last thing he needs is to inflate his brother’s ego.

But, for now, he thinks he can see the light at the end of the tunnel. And that’s not too bad.

Not bad at all.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday :)
> 
> This is kind of a shorter chapter, but I'm sure some of you will be really happy with what's in it!   
> I got a new job (started yesterday) and while it has some bonuses, I have some worries. Mainly for this fic. The last thing I want to do is get too behind in it. As of right now, I've written up until chapter fourteen, which is great! But if I can't keep up the momentum and I fall behind, I may have to do another hiatus just to get caught up.   
> This isn't, like, set in stone or anything, but I wanted to keep you guys posted as much as I can on where this fic is and where it's going. We have so much to get through; I haven't even hit the halfway point for the first part haha   
> Anyway, I will let you all know what's happening as it's happening :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

There are moments in Mark’s life that he hates everything. Like the time a couple of his classmates in middle school destroyed his project right before it was due and his teacher didn’t believe him and he got a zero, or the time he found out his dad had cancer and was told he wouldn’t make it to Mark’s thirteenth birthday. Everything else always seemed to pale in comparison, so when these moments come up, well, they’re kind of momentous.

Right now, Mark hates everything because he’s going to have to do the one thing he desperately doesn’t want to do, even though he knows he should.

It isn’t his fault that he has a good conscience that likes to keep him on track of being a good guy. It never lets him live if he does something mean, like taunt someone until they march away. The guilt-trips are insane and he’s getting them from himself.

Honestly, it’s kind of pathetic.

“You actually going to do it?” Jaemin asks, putting his books into his locker. Mark frowns. “Because, like, if you are, you should probably do it now. Otherwise, the staring is creepy.”

Staring. Mark isn’t staring. He’s…observing and planning. It’s totally different.

In his defense, keeping an eye on Donghyuck is the only way to find out the right moment to go over and talk to him. Maybe now isn’t the best time. It’s right in the morning and if this doesn’t go well then Mark doesn’t want to be responsible for putting either himself or Donghyuck in a bad mood.

Still, he knows he’s going to need to. At some point.

After effectively pissing Donghyuck off at their practice yesterday, Mark’s been somewhat distracted. The no-sleep kind of distracted. The I-can’t-stop-my-brain-from-showing-me-all-my-mistakes kind of distracted. It’s frustrating and Mark hates everything.

And, yeah, okay, maybe Donghyuck didn’t deserve it. Mark should know better than to use fire against fire. It never goes well. But Donghyuck irks him to the bone and Mark can’t help it. He just gets too riled up. The worst part, Donghyuck knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s doing it on purpose. So, yeah, Mark retaliated.

Should he have? Probably not.

Did it feel good when he did? Abso-fucking-lutely.

“I’m not staring,” he says as he follows Donghyuck’s movements, who’s been sifting through his binders for the last fifteen minutes. Renjun is nowhere in sight. If Mark wants to get this over with, without an audience, now is the perfect time.

If he can make himself do it.

“You are so,” hisses Jaemin as he shuts his locker. “Seriously, just go talk to him.”

“What if it just results in us fighting again? It’s too early in the morning for that, Nana.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“And you aren’t helpful.”

Sighing, Jaemin glances over his shoulder toward Donghyuck. The hall is starting to fill, but Mark can still spot him from his golden hair. A blond beacon in a sea of black and brown. “Just go over and say sorry. If he tells you to fuck off then you leave. It isn’t that hard.”

“You weren’t there. It was rough.”

“I kind of wish I had been.”

Mark rips his eyes away from Donghyuck to look at Jaemin with raised brows. “You still won’t tell me where you were?”

“You’ll find out later. Oh, make sure you tell everyone to meet at the diamond after school.”

“It’s Friday,” Mark points out.

“Yeah, it is, genius. But I need to call an impromptu meeting. Now, go talk to your Pitcher.”

A shiver shoots down his spine. “Fuck everything if _he’s_ my Pitcher.”

“So eloquent of you.”

He doesn’t get to retort because Jaemin shoves him across the hall and bolts in the opposite direction. Mark makes a rule to never hang out with Jaemin and Jeno one-on-one. He either needs them to balance each other out or to just not be there at all.

Taking a deep breath, he starts toward Donghyuck. On the way, he nearly runs into someone, but his mind is somewhat preoccupied to even say sorry.

God, he can’t believe he’s doing this.

Donghyuck, whether he notices Mark’s presence or not, doesn’t look up from his notes. He keeps his eyes down, scanning his handwriting. It isn’t until Mark clears his throat that he even dares to look up. The expression he gets is pure boredom. There’s no raise of an eyebrow, no squinted glare, not even a hint of anticipation. Mark shifts, uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he says.

Donghyuck gives him a once over, a slow drag of his eyes from top to bottom, before going back to his notes.

Okay, so, when he came over, he at least figured he would get some kind of verbal response. This? This is so much worse. It’s awkward and Mark doesn’t even know where to start and how the hell is he supposed to apologize if Donghyuck won’t even pay him any mind?

“I’m sorry.” It comes out rushed and uncoordinated and, perhaps, a little louder than he planned.

Even though Donghyuck stops flipping through the pages, he still refuses to look up.

Swallowing over the lump forming in his throat, he continues, “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday.”

Silence. Then, Donghyuck heaves a sigh, closes his binder, and turns completely to face Mark. They aren’t that different in height, he notices. Donghyuck’s maybe a centimeter or so shorter than him, but, shit, he’s still kind of intimidating even if he doesn’t tower over him.

“What is this?” To someone who wasn’t paying attention, his voice would be smooth. But Mark can hear the snip in them. Like a papercut. It’s a glide and then it stings. “This your way of trying to make nice so that I’ll join because I thought we’d already gone through—”

“No,” he interrupts. “No, that isn’t it. I just…” He rolls his eyes up to the ceiling in a silent prayer because, by god, he’s going to need it. “This isn’t me trying to get an apology out of you or for me to be the bigger person or to even try to get on your good side. I just feel bad, okay? I’m not normally so rude and you ticked me off and I retaliated badly. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck raises his chin, searching Mark’s face. “I ticked you off, huh?”

“You tend to do that,” he admits.

The corner of his lips twitch. “It’s a talent.”

Mark has no doubt about that. He licks his lips, unsure of what else to say. “I, um, yeah. Okay.”

“Listen,” Donghyuck says as Mark goes to wander away. “I guess I should apologize, too. Sometimes I come on too strong.”

“Sometimes?” When he spots Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrowing, he adds, “You were an asshole.”

Surprisingly, Donghyuck laughs. He covers his mouth to muffle the sound, but it’s a real laugh and Mark blinks, a little thrown off by it.

“Sorry,” he says as he lowers his hand and tries to control his laughing. “Wow, apologize and then call a guy an asshole. Impressive, Prez.”

“I just—You—” he stutters. “You were!”

Donghyuck bites his lip to keep himself from smiling. “I know I was,” he states. “I’m not an idiot. I just find pushing your buttons a little too entertaining.”

“You’re not even sorry, are you?”

“Not even close.”

Shaking his head, Mark can’t tell if he wants to groan or laugh. Dealing with Donghyuck is like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. He can feel the headache coming on.

Mark nearly jumps out of his skin when Donghyuck pats him on the shoulder. “There, there, Prez. You’ll survive.” He closes his locker. “Anyway, thanks for that heartfelt apology. I’ll be on my way.”

He goes to step around Mark, but Mark cuts him off. “Wait. Just, um, one more thing.”

When he raises a brow, his piercing glitters. “And that is?”

“I know we don’t really get along and I know you don’t want to join the team—I’m not asking you to—but if you want to come and watch, just to support Renjun, you can,” Mark tells him. “I won’t stop you.”

“You wouldn’t be able to, anyway,” Donghyuck states and Mark rolls his eyes.

“Just…Whatever. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Mark hates the fact that Donghyuck’s presence either resorts him to awkwardness or spins him up into frustration. The lack of middle-ground is exhausting. But at least, for now, he doesn’t need to worry about getting into another fight. His senior year is supposed to be a lot chiller than this. The only frustration he should be feeling is the kind he gets from university applications and mounds of homework.

“You know,” Donghyuck says as he steps closer. Mark shoots his attention to his shoes. That’s safer. “You’re quite interesting. See you around, Prez.”

Mark lets him leave, his body deflating in relief against the lockers. He doesn’t realize how hard his heart is pounding until Donghyuck is already gone and Mark has nothing left to pay attention to. He’s the Student Body President. Talking to people and doing speeches in front of crowds has never given him anxiety like this and Donghyuck is just one boy.

He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. Well, at least that’s over with. Here’s hoping it can’t get much worse than this.

*

SM High isn’t a very intimidating school on the outside. It’s two-stories made of red brick and too many windows. It isn’t pretty, isn’t fancy, and completely built for function, not fame. As the one of the only two high schools in town, it’s relatively small. There aren’t enough students to make it any bigger. So, no, it isn’t intimidating.

But Jaehyun feels intimidated, anyway.

He stands at the gate, gazing at the front door of the school and desperately trying not to relive his high school memories. It’s so easy to, especially as he moves closer. He remembers hanging out with his friends by the tree in the front, passing the ball back and forth. He also remembers a hand on his shoulder, gaining his attention, a smile so bright it could light up his world, and a voice saying, “You’re Jung Jaehyun, right? Have you ever played baseball?”

Shaking his head, he buries the memories and throws the door open. The end of the day is drawing near and he knows the halls will be full in a few moments. He hopes he can make it to the office before that happens. He may be an alum, but coming back makes him feel strange and out of place.

When he agreed to being coach, Jaemin had been quick to tell him to get ready to meet the team the next day. Well, it’s the next day and Jaehyun is starting to question his life choices. Being inside the school halls does nothing for him. He feels like an outsider.

He can’t even imagine what Mingyu or Jungkook, or even any of his past teammates would say if they saw him, right now. He keeps his cap down low on his face, his hands tucked into his pockets with a bag dangling from his wrist. He didn’t bring much with him. It was hard to think of what he would need since he had never met the team. But he managed to locate his glove, a bat, and a notebook.

Okay, actually, Jaemin located it because, apparently, he hadn’t listened when Jaehyun told him to throw out all his sport memorabilia and had actually kept the garbage bags up in the attic without him knowing. Sometimes, his brother is too smart for his own good.

The bell rings as Jaehyun comes to a stop near the office door. The receptionist notices him, though she doesn’t ask him who he is or what he’s there for, which is fine. The longer he can go without anyone realizing who he is, the better.

He glances at his phone to find no messages, so he hopes that Jaemin is on his way.

As the students pass by, he eyes the yellow uniforms and the textbooks in his hands. It doesn’t feel that long ago that he was wandering through the halls with his own group of friends, believing everything was going to work out for the best because, well, how could it not?

He spots Jaemin’s bleached hair from down the hall. “Hey!” he greets, happily, as he comes to a stop in front of him. “We need to see Mr. Moon first, but I told Mark to rally the guys at the diamond. We can meet them after. This way.”

He talks so fast that Jaehyun has barely any time to process the words before he’s being tugged through the halls by his wrist. When they finally make it to another set of offices, Jaemin lets him go in first. Inside is full of little cubicles. Teachers are spread out, still working away. Not knowing where to go from here, Jaemin nudges him onward and then pulls him to a stop when he almost passes a desk.

A plaque on the surface reads: Moon Taeil.

Jaehyun knew a lot of the teachers—if not all of them—when he went to school. It isn’t a big place and learning people’s names isn’t so difficult. But never, in his four years of being at SM High, had he ever met Mr. Moon. Which means he’s new. Or, at least, newer.

And it makes sense because Mr. Moon doesn’t look that much older than Jaehyun himself. His hair is cropped short and his glasses are rather large, but he seems younger than most of the teachers around.

“Ah, Mr. Na,” Mr. Moon says as he spots Jaemin. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I wanted you to meet my brother. This is Jaehyun,” he says, throwing an arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders with a smile. “He wants to coach the baseball team.”

Mr. Moon’s eyes widen slightly. “Does he now? Well, Mr. Na—”

“It’s Jung, actually,” he cuts in. “We’re step brothers.”

He doesn’t like putting the ‘step’ there. It doesn’t feel right after all these years. Jaemin’s always been his little brother and that’s that. Still, the last names can get confusing for people and sometimes it becomes necessary to just put it out there straight.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mr. Moon says. “Mr. Jung, then. It’s nice to meet you. But, unfortunately, you won’t be able to coach. The rules have it as a teacher.”

“Actually, the rules state that the coach can be anyone as long as the school permits it. And the parents of the players, of course. We would still need a school representative to handle all the paperwork for the tournaments, but the rules say that we can have Jaehyun,” says Jaemin as he fishes in his bag for the manual. He flips it open and slides it to Mr. Moon. “Right there.”

Jaehyun waits, lower lip caught between his teeth, as Mr. Moon trails his eyes over the words. Slow and carefully, he reads. Then, he takes his glasses off, links his fingers together, and looked between Jaemin and Jaehyun.

“You sure you want to do this?” Mr. Moon asks him.

Nodding, he says, “Yeah, I am.”

“Okay,” he spins his chair around to pull open a drawer. He takes out a folder and starts leafing through the pages inside. “I have some forms for you to sign. You’ll need to get the players’ parents to sign these.” He passes over a pile of paper. “I’ll need them by Monday. And I want you to come check-in with me before practices. If you need anything, feel free to come to me. Otherwise, that’s it.”

Jaehyun looks down at the papers in his hands. “That’s it?”

“Yep,” he chirps. A smile stretches across his lips. “I’m glad that you’re taking this on, Mr. Jung. Mark has been wanting this team for years and it will be good to have someone who knows what they’re doing out there, teaching them.”

He blinks. “You—”

“Yes, I know who you are. But don’t worry too much about that. You’re here to help the boys and I think that will do them well. Just don’t let them run you into the ground.” He shoots Jaemin a look, who bats his eyelashes innocently. “Good luck to you. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Thank you, Mr. Moon.”

Jaemin drags him from the room before they can say anything else. A sheet is ripped out of the pile between his fingers—nearly giving him a papercut—and Jaemin folds it to slip it into his bag with a smile so wide that it shows off all his teeth.

Linking arms, Jaemin pulls him down the hall. “Well, let’s go meet the team, shall we?”

*

After the loss of the Championships, Jaehyun had gotten used to being stared at. By his own classmates, teachers, and even just people on the street. He went from being on a winning team, to being the one that lost them their streak. Over the years, he’s learned to ignore it, simply because there’s no way to stop it.

Nothing, however, compares to this moment.

The rest of the team is there at the dugout when he arrives with Jaemin, who races ahead to gain his friends attention. Seven boys, Jaehyun counts and the only two he recognizes are Jaemin and Jeno. The others are fresh faces, ones he may know the names of, but never had a face to match.

One of them is tall and broad, his smile so wide that it takes up most of his face. The boy beside him laughs, showing of a row of sharp-looking teeth, and drapes himself over a green-haired boy, who is busy telling some kind of story. They all seem quite enraptured by it, including a lanky kid, probably the youngest of them all by the looks of it. He watches the green-haired boy talk with an expression of complete concentration.

The last one that Jaehyun doesn’t know ends up getting Jaemin on his back, almost knocking him over. He shoves Jaemin into Jeno with a faint smile on his face, even though he seems to be trying to look miffed about it. Jaehyun takes note of the high cheekbones and the black hair, and he’s pretty sure that this was the boy who was teaching the others yesterday.

That’s seven. Two are missing.

Glancing around, he realizes that there aren’t two more. Whoever the other two boys were that happened to be at practice yesterday, aren’t here yet. Or aren’t coming. Jaehyun kind of hopes they do because he’s not sure how well coaching a baseball team through Nationals is going to go if he doesn’t, well, have a team.

Anyway, the staring that Jaehyun isn’t used to? Yes, well, this would be it. The moment that Jaemin points over to Jaehyun and lets them all take him in.

Unlike the ones he’s received previously, these ones hold no judgement or pity. They’re simply observing. Jaehyun doesn’t know if that’s worse or not.

Then, the boy with the cheekbones blinks once. Twice. Glances at Jaemin and then again at Jaehyun, mouth gaping before blurting out, “Jung Jaehyun?”

Oh, so this is Mark, he thinks.

“You know Jung Jaehyun?” His voice is almost a whisper, partly a hiss, as if he’s stuck between being upset Jaemin didn’t tell him and being completely awestruck. “How do you know Jung Jaehyun?”

To be honest, Jaehyun isn’t sure how to handle it. People aren’t usually struck by him. Not like this, at least. Sure, he’s had his fair share of people who get sidetracked by his looks—he knows he’s handsome, he just doesn’t flaunt it—but this is someone who idolizes him past his appearance. Idolizes him because he lost.

And…he’s confused.

“He’s my brother,” Jaemin tells him with a smirk.

If it’s possible, Mark’s jaw drops even more. “What the fuck? Did you know this?”

He directs the question to Jeno, who simply shrugs and says, “Hey, Jae.”

“I hate all of you,” Mark says. “What—How—You’re a Na!”

“He’s my step-brother,” explains Jaemin. “He left before we became friends and—”

“You never told me?”

“I’m telling you now?”

It’s almost as if he can’t decide whether to be angry or not. While his attention keeps flitting to Jaehyun as he can’t stop himself, his eyes are narrowed and he keeps fighting his eyebrows from frowning. After a moment, he decides to just give up and focus in on Jaehyun.

Stepping forward, somewhat awkwardly, he puts out his hand for Jaehyun to shake. “Um, hi, I’m—”

“Mark, right?” Jaehyun guesses.

Mark blinks. “Y—Yeah. You know my name?” He glances over his shoulder at Jaemin and Jeno to whisper, “He knows my name.”

“No duh,” Jaemin says. “I told him about you.”

A squeak slips from Mark’s lips and his cheeks flame red, along with his ears. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re one of my best friends? And I was telling him about the team. Now, let my brother go, Mark. I think he would like his hand back.”

Jaehyun laughs when his hand is released as if he were made of fire. “It’s cool. It’s nice to meet you. Never really had a fan before.”

“Mark’s your biggest fan.”

“Jaemin!” Shuffling his feet, Mark stutters, “I just, uh—I saw your Championship game.”

A bitter taste settles on his tongue, but Jaehyun chooses to ignore it. He puts down his bag and tucks the papers Mr. Moon gave him under his arm. “Most people would have saw that game and blame me for the loss.”

Eyes wide, he shakes his head. “No way! You were incredible! I saw every game that year and SM High kicked ass—Sorry, butt. Kicked butt.”

“Dude, relax. I’m not a teacher. I don’t expect you to clean your mouth out for me. But, um, thanks, I guess? We did pretty good up until the end.”

“It was just luck,” Mark tells him. “Or, well, bad luck. But it wasn’t because you guys were bad. I chose this school because the team was amazing.”

Jaemin comes up behind Mark to swing an arm around his shoulders. “Did I tell you that Mark is a _really_ big fan? Your biggest. I’ve had to sit through hours of him ranting about you.”

That earns him an elbow to the stomach and Jaehyun thinks he kind of deserves it. Smiling slightly, he peers over Mark and Jaemin’s head at the rest of the group. “That the whole team?”

Mark shakes his head. “We’re still waiting for Ren—Oh, there he is.”

“And Donghyuck,” Jaemin notes as Jaehyun turns to spot two boys heading their way. “So, you did apologize then?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” mutters Mark.

The newcomers come to a stop right in front of Jaehyun. One of them is golden blond with tan skin and the other pale with dark hair. Jaehyun really hopes he can get their names down as fast as possible. He would really like to avoid calling them nicknames like ‘pale boy’ and ‘blondie’ in his head.

“This is Renjun,” Jaemin says as he gestures to the boy with black hair. “And Donghyuck. Donghyuck isn’t on the team, though. He’s basically just our mascot.”

Donghyuck glares at him. “Mascot my ass.”

“Weren’t you the one that threw the pitch yesterday?” Jaehyun asks, trying to sort through his memories.

Raising his brow, he asks, “Was it good?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yeah, that was me.” He points at Mark. “Otherwise, I would blame him.”

Mark wrinkles his nose. “‘Civilized’ isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Donghyuck asks, batting his eyelashes. He reminds Jaehyun of Jaemin a bit and that’s kind of terrifying.

“So, um, I guess I’ll introduce myself?” Jaehyun offers, gesturing them all toward the dugout. Surprisingly, they do as they’re told. That’s how he finds ten sets of eyes staring back at him, waiting. “Uh, hey. I’m Jaehyun. I guess I’m your new coach.”

“How old are you?” asks the boy with the green hair.

“Twenty-two,” he replies. “Old enough to be a coach, if that’s what you’re getting at. Jaemin said you might need someone who knows a thing about baseball, so, here I am.”

“He was the Catcher when SM High played against JY Prep in their final Championship game.”

Jaehyun can’t help but notice the way Mark doesn’t say ‘when SM High lost’.

From the side of the group, Donghyuck frowns. “The year JY Prep started their winning streak?”

Mark glances at him and nods. “Yeah. That year.”

There’s something in the way Donghyuck furrows his brows and purses his lips that feels off to Jaehyun. As if his mind is turning and he’s trying to keep his thoughts from escaping.

“Anyway, yeah, I was the Catcher. I played on the team all through high school and played some little league before that. Hopefully, I can be a bit of help and get you guys through the tournament,” he says.

“I’ll take any help I can get,” says the boy with the sharp-looking teeth. “I’m YangYang. Nice to meet you.”

“Lucas,” the taller, broader boy greets with an excited wave.

The boy with the green hair points at himself, “Chenle,” and then at the lanky kid beside him, “Jisung.”

“And you know the rest of us,” Jaemin puts in. “We aren’t much, right now.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Jaehyun hears, and Jaemin turns to Donghyuck with his arms crossed.

“You aren’t even on the team,” he points out. “Keep your opinions to yourself.”

Mark tugs on the sleeve of Jaemin’s uniform. “He isn’t worth it, Nana. Leave him be.”

“Why aren’t you?” Jaehyun finds himself asking.

Shrugging, Donghyuck says, “Don’t want to.”

“That’s it?” He points toward the Pitcher’s mound. “You’re good. Do you not do tournaments?”

“Not anymore.”

“So, you used to.” The statement comes from Mark’s mouth and even he seems startled that he said anything, at all. He looks to Jaehyun and says, “I wouldn’t even bother. He doesn’t want to play. He just likes showing off.”

“Why not show off on the diamond, then? Clearly, you have skills and you enjoy it,” says Jaehyun. Donghyuck stays quiet, biting on the inside of his cheek. “Did you play on another school team?”

At this point, everyone is watching Donghyuck. It’s clear to Jaehyun that no one knows the answer, yet they want to know. It makes him wonder how often Donghyuck has dropped by the diamond. Obviously, not often enough for them to know much about him.

That being said, Renjun shoots Donghyuck a glance out of the corner of his eye. They seem close. Friends, even. Jaehyun wouldn’t be surprised if Renjun knew the answer. Even as a new addition to the group, Jaehyun can spot the way Renjun sits almost angled toward Donghyuck, like he’s ready to get up and block anyone from getting closer.

When Donghyuck finally replies, he says, “I don’t play anymore.”

“Kind of a shame,” he mutters, flipping through the pages until he finds the permission slips. “I could use a player like you. Some of the schools are tough. Well, they were when I was in school.”

“They still are,” Mark tells him. “I keep tabs each year.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Of course, you do.”

“Just the stats,” he insists. “I don’t actually go to the games anymore. But I know the scores. They’re all good. Some better than others, especially JY Prep. They’ve been pretty steady over the last five years. They’ll be the team to beat, I think.”

“Considering they’re Champions, and probably will be again this year, I would say you aren’t wrong, Prez,” says Donghyuck.

“Then, we’ll just have to be better,” Jaehyun decides. “It’ll be a long road. It’ll be hard and difficult and I’m not going to go easy on you if you really want to win. JY Prep has always been a challenge. I doubt this year will be any different, like Donghyuck said.”

“I don’t know about you guys,” YangYang says, “but I want to win.”

Lucas nods. “Same. Sign me up.”

“Winning Championships sounds good to me,” adds Chenle.

Mark beams at them and then at Jaehyun. This, he thinks, is going to be interesting. So, they have a fire in them. Jaehyun can work with that.

“JY Prep, huh?” Donghyuck’s voice is quiet, thoughtful. Renjun mutters something under his breath, but Donghyuck simply shakes his head. “You really think you can beat them?”

Jaehyun eyes them all. Most of them are so green, so new. He hasn’t seen them all play, but he can tell they’re determined. That’s more than enough for a head-start. “If we have the skills and we practice. And if we have players that can help us out. Why? You interested?”

“You don’t have to,” Renjun murmurs. “Really, Hyuck.”

“I’ll join.”

“What?” Mark whips on him, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “I asked you a week ago and you said no! We played for it and you still walked away! You told me just this morning that you didn’t want me asking you again! _What the actual fuck?_ ”

Jeno grabs Mark’s wrist to stop him from advancing on Donghyuck, who simply smirks at him. “Calm. Stay calm.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Donghyuck says, shrugging. “You have a decent coach and I’m intrigued. Call me curious.”

Mark goes to say something, but Jeno covers his mouth. Still, even Jaehyun can make out the words, ‘Let me kill him’ behind Jeno’s hand.

“Mark, chill,” Lucas calls from the other end of the dugout. “That’s ten people. Nine players and a coach. We have a full team, dude. How awesome is that?”

When Jeno finally removes his hand, Mark crosses his arms and huffs. Jaehyun, trying not to laugh at the pout on his lips, starts handing out the forms.

“I need your parents to sign this. It gives me permission to coach you,” he says. “Have them back by Monday. I’ll be here at the end of the day to see Mr. Moon. Got it?” They all nod, so he moves onto the next thing. “Now, I have no idea where you’re all at, so we’re going to have to figure that out.” He digs out his glove from the bag at his feet. “Anyone up for some ball?”


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! How are you? I hope you're staying safe :)  
> I just wanted to thank everyone for the views, kudos, and comments. I honestly can't express how happy I am that you're all enjoying this fic, so...thank you! <3 <3   
> We're coming up to the point where we're going to see some relationships start to develop, and some hints about the past of a couple of members will be revealed (not fully...just some tidbits). I'm really excited! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy and happy Tuesday!

Tuesdays, Lucas decides, have gotten infinitely better. Springtime, in general, has gotten infinitely better. He remembers years of trudging through the first half of the year into Winter with nothing to do until basketball season hit. Sure, he did his pre-season training, but it wasn’t enough. It never felt like he was making any headway. Not like when the season really kicked in and the pressure was on and the games were going and they would win trophy after trophy.

Springtime was boring, for lack of a better term.

That is, until Mark set up the baseball team.

Okay, so, he hadn’t been totally sold on it in the beginning. Not because he disliked baseball or being on another team, but because time was an issue, especially being in his senior year. The time everything is relying on grades.

He doesn’t have bad grades, per say. They just aren’t the best. Which is why he’s sitting next to Mark in the middle of the cafeteria with his textbooks spread out around him instead of eating his food. And, damn, that pizza smells good.

“No, you want to…” Mark’s voice trails off as he takes the pencil from his hand and fixes the formula. “You’re getting the hang of it, though.”

Lucas isn’t sure he is. God, he wants food.

Procrastinating, he gazes around the room. Students are wandering in and out, some gathered around tables to the point of climbing over them. Lunch is the time people get to take a break from school, not do more of it. He sighs as he glances down at his math homework.

When he looks back up, he spots some of their friends at another table, the ones from their basketball team. That’s usually the crowd Lucas hangs around. They’re cool, fun. However, Lucas has, on several occasions, wondered why he doesn’t hang out with Mark more, considering they’re much closer. Then he remembers that, while he’d rather hang out with Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin, they’re often elsewhere. Mostly because Mark has other things on his plate, but also just because they’ve always been a trio and Lucas was a little late to the game. He’s not sure how welcome he is in crashing their hang outs.

That being said, they seem to be just fine with him being there. Jaemin’s chatting happily with Jeno, who sometimes leans over to help Lucas with whatever problem he’s working on. They don’t question why he’s there, they just let him sit. In fact, Jeno was the one to invite him when he noticed the books in his hands. Mark had been quick to agree, which was good because he was the one that offered to tutor Lucas in the first place.

So, the four of them sit at a table near the back—Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin’s usual table—having lunch as if nothing is out of place. That is, until a tray is placed down beside him and he glances up to see Chenle and Jisung standing there. Chenle smiles, but he appears just as nervous as Jisung does. Just without all the hand twisting.

“Hey, do you mind if we sit with you?” asks Chenle.

Jaemin smiles. “Sure, why not?”

The two of them slip into the seats available. Chenle beside Lucas and Jisung across the table at Jeno’s side.

“Thanks,” he says. “There was just…You know…Not a lot of places to sit.”

Well, that’s a lie, Lucas thinks. There are tons of places to sit. People tend to eat outside on good days, or in the classrooms. The cafeteria is busy, but not overly full. Even from where he’s sitting, he can spot approximately fourteen free chairs. Several of them together.

Mark must notice it, as well, because he frowns. Regardless, he doesn’t say anything about it and, instead, he nods. “Yeah, of course. You’re always welcome to sit with us. Can’t promise we’ll be that exciting, though.”

“Trust me, anything is better than eating alone,” is all Chenle says before diving into his food. Jisung watches him for a moment before doing the same, almost as if he was simply waiting for Chenle to start. “What are you working on?”

“Math,” Lucas sighs. “I hate it. I hate it so much. Kill me.”

“That bad?”

“Kill. Me.”

Chenle laughs and shakes his head. “God, I’m so glad I’m not a senior yet. It looks like a nightmare. That looks like complete gibberish.”

“It _is_ complete gibberish,” says Lucas.

Patting him on the shoulder, Mark adds, “Just until you figure it out. And you will. You were getting it before.”

Suddenly, another body drops into the seat on Jaemin’s other side, startling them. YangYang grins. “Hey! You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Jaemin says as he moves his drink closer to himself so YangYang can have more room. “We were just discussing math.”

YangYang wrinkles his nose. “Don’t make me lose my appetite. I just came from Math. I’m trying to escape it.”

“It’s not that bad,” Mark insists.

“You’re, like, the only person I know that doesn’t hate it,” Jaemin states.

“That’s not true. There are tons of people you know that don’t dislike it. Jeno likes math.”

“Overstatement,” says Jeno. “But I don’t hate it. That’s true.”

“Weirdo,” Jaemin tells him, but he’s smiling and Jeno smiles back. It’s kind of cute, Lucas thinks.

Mark rolls his eyes at them, leaning over once more to see what Lucas is working on. He goes to say something, but the chair beside him pulls out and the table goes silent. Glancing over his shoulder, Mark frowns.

“No. Oh, no,” he says, shaking his hands and his head and effectively trying to shoo Donghyuck away, who’s only response is to grin crookedly at him. “No. I deal with you at practice. That’s it.”

“Rude, Prez,” Donghyuck drawls as he rests his elbows on the table and places his chin in his hands. He puffs out his cheeks, lower lip protruding. He looks squishy. “Is that any way to deal with a fellow peer? It looked like you were having a meeting, so we thought we would join.”

We?

Lucas’ attention snaps past Donghyuck to Renjun. He’s standing at the end of the table with a look in his eye that’s a mix of fond and annoyed when he watches Donghyuck poke fun at Mark. It’s weird, a little bizarre, because it’s not the kind of expression he would normally want set on him, but he finds himself wanting Renjun to look at him that way. It makes his palms sweat.

He hasn’t known Renjun for long. Only the last couple of weeks. And only because they both have study period at the same time. And people could argue that there’s no real reason for Lucas to know Renjun, at all, because Lucas shares the period with his basketball friends and Renjun’s the new kid, who spends most of his time studying in the corner with his best friend. But, that’s the thing, Lucas doesn’t really have a reason.

All he knows is that he walked into study hall one day and he saw a boy with black hair and a concentrated look on his face and thought, ‘I want to know him.’ So, he did.

Something about Renjun made Lucas want to know him. Maybe it’s the fact that he seems to be the only person in the room actually trying to study. Maybe it’s because he’s new and Lucas likes to meet new people. Maybe it’s because people whispered about his transfer, who he may have been, and Lucas is simply curious. Or maybe—just maybe—it’s because Renjun is the only boy that Lucas has looked at and realized is kind of, maybe, sort of adorable.

Oh, boy. That was different.

Not that Lucas has any problems with that. Quite the contrary. He’s known for a while that he wasn’t exactly the straightest arrow. He likes girls. Likes them a lot. But he’s also found boys cute and attractive. He’s just never wanted to do anything about it. Never had anyone that made his palms sweat or his legs go jittery.

But he gets that with Renjun and it’s different. It’s not bad. Just different. So, yeah, he wants to know Renjun. He wants to talk to him and learn more about him and hang out with him.

It’s…different.

“Hey,” he greets, plastering on a smile and gesturing to the final chair next to YangYang. He kind of wishes there were a spot next to himself, but he’s sandwiched between Mark and Chenle, so that isn’t a possibility. “Take a seat.”

Mark shoots him a glare. He knows it isn’t because he asked Renjun to stay. Mark seems to have no issues with Renjun. But if Renjun is staying then so is Donghyuck.

Oh, well. Mark can deal.

Donghyuck forces himself around Mark, shoving him back into his seat, just to take a peek at what Lucas is working on. “Oh, math. That’s cool.”

“That’s cool?” Jaemin asks.

Mark shoves Donghyuck back into his own chair with a glare before brushing himself off.

Shrugging, Donghyuck says, “I like math.”

“ _You_ like math?” Mark asks, incredulously.

“Good god, they have something in common other than baseball,” Jaemin stage-whispers to Jeno.

Jeno chuckles. “It was bound to happen, eventually.”

Lucas can’t help but laugh, too, especially when he catches sight of Mark’s contorted expression. He looks sort of ill at the prospect of having anything in common with Donghyuck and it’s hilarious.

His laughter, however, dies off the moment he notices people are staring. Staring and muttering and Lucas is confused because he doesn’t think they’ve done anything weird to deserve it.

Across the room, he catches the eye of Yongha, someone he’s known since middle school, when his family transferred from China to Korea. Since then, they’ve been on the basketball team every year now, so Lucas thinks it’s safe to say that he knows Yongha fairly well. But he’s never seen Yongha look nervous like this, indecisive like this. Yongha takes a look around, taking in all the people, before standing up with a few other teammates and wandering over.

There are no smiles when they arrive and Lucas knows this isn’t good, but he greets them as happily as he can, anyway. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Um, nothing much, just…” Yongha drags his eyes around the table. “Are you coming back?”

Lucas furrows his brow. “Back?”

“Yeah, to the table.”

The rest of his friends, still sitting at his usual table, are watching. “I don’t understand.”

“I just think it’s best if you come back to the table with us. You, too, Mark.”

Mark straightens. “What are you talking about?”

“People are starting to talk,” Yongha says, keeping his voice low. “The baseball thing was funny, at the start, but I think it’s time to let it go. Just come back to the table with us.”

It’s strange how much he sounds like he’s begging. As if it’s more for his benefit than theirs. Almost as if he was embarrassed by what Mark and Lucas were doing. People spoke, when the idea was still fresh and Mark was still gaining members, about how helpless the whole thing seemed, how bringing the team back was a stupid idea.

But none of it effects the basketball team. Although, maybe it kind of does. Lucas isn’t one to toot his own horn, but he’s a good player, and Mark is their Captain, so maybe this has everything to do with the basketball team image. Not that he’s surprised. Everything in high school is about image. Having two of their top players try to start up a team that’s already sunk and drowned probably isn’t helpful.

“I think I’m good,” Mark says, slowly. “It won’t interfere with basketball or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Come on, Mark,” Yongha says, leaning over the table to talk to him. “Don’t do this. It’s just asking for trouble. It doesn’t help that you’re hanging with…” His eyes shoot to Donghyuck, who raises a pierced brow at him. “Look, just think about what this is doing for your reputation. You’ve got a good thing going with the captaincy and being SBP. Don’t mess it up with attempting to revive the baseball team. It’s a lost cause.”

“You’d think you signed up to be the lead roll in a musical, they’re so against this,” says Donghyuck with a snort. “It’s a baseball team. Get over it?”

“Losing Championships was humiliating for our town,” Yongha hisses. “Baseball was what we had to make us known. Until JY Prep kicked our asses all thanks to a kid, who couldn’t hit a ball. And rumors say he’s coaching you guys, now? Like, come on, you’re just asking to be laughed at, Mark.”

Slowly, Jaemin stands. “That’s my brother you’re talking about, so I’d suggest you tread carefully.”

“Brother or not, he made our school a laughingstock across the board. People think you’re crazy for even trying. Dude, let it die and move on. There are better teams to join. Ones that are actually winning.”

There’s a crowd drawing in; people from his class are watching, even the ones on the soccer team and the cheer squad. This, apparently, is a bigger thing than Lucas gives it credit for. He knew people would laugh at them for trying, but he never expected this.

“I’m not trying to start a fight,” says Yongha. “I’m just saying—”

“Well, you can ‘just say’ somewhere else,” Jaemin interrupts, jaw tight. Jeno reaches up to take hold of his wrist. Whether it’s supposed to calm Jaemin or stop him from throwing a punch, Lucas isn’t sure. “We can do whatever the hell we want.”

“You can, sure, but if you want to not be the losers of the school, I would suggest maybe taking my advice and leave this whole baseball thing behind you.” Yongha shrugs. “Doing this and hanging out with a washed-up has-been is probably not going to do you any—Whoa! Hey!”

Before Lucas can register, Jaemin is flying over Renjun to get at Yongha. His hands close on Yongha’s collar, shoving him back. Renjun nearly tumbles from his chair and Lucas stands to try and help him, even though he’s on the other side of the table and can’t reach him, at all. Voices and shouts swell in the cafeteria. Mark is out of his seat in a blink, Jeno right behind him, to try and pry Jaemin from Yongha before it can get much worse.

“And I thought this school was boring,” Lucas hears Donghyuck mutter.

Sighing, Lucas walks over to Jaemin and Yongha. Mark and Jeno are telling Jaemin to let go, their hands trying to get him to release. It isn’t working and Jaemin isn’t listening. He’s shouting something, but Lucas can’t hear any of the words over the rest of the noise. Instead, he takes hold of Jaemin’s wrists in one hand and shoves Yongha back with enough force that they have to separate. Yongha is caught by the crowd before he can go sprawling and Jeno wraps his arms around Jaemin’s waist to keep him from lunging again.

Everyone is circling now, phones out, but the voices fall quiet the moment another one shouts out, “What is going on in here?”

The crowd parts for Mr. Moon to step through. His eyes are narrowed behind his glasses. Lucas glances at Jaemin. He still looks angry, his glower white-hot, but he isn’t fighting against Jeno anymore. Yongha straightens out the collar Jaemin crushed.

“Would someone like to explain to me what’s happening?” Mr. Moon demands.

Through gritted teeth, Jaemin says, “Nothing. Just a little disagreement.”

When Mr. Moon turns to Yongha, he simply nods while side-eying Jaemin. “Well,” Mr. Moon says, “let’s keep the disagreements calmer, shall we? Don’t you all have things to do?”

The crowd disperses. Yongha shoots Jaemin a glare before marching off with the rest of his friends.

As they all disappear, Lucas moves over to Renjun’s side. “You okay?”

Renjun’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “Oh, um, yes? I—” He looks to Jaemin. “I wasn’t the one fighting?”

“Jaemin jumped over you, though.”

“Ah,” Renjun breathes as he brushes out his jacket. “Yeah, that was sudden, but I’m okay. I’m fine. Really.”

He smiles, shoulders relaxing. “I’m glad.”

Red flushes over Renjun’s cheekbones and he looks away.

“Well,” Jeno says, “that happened.”

Jaemin points at Mark, eyes still narrowed and bright. “We’re winning Nationals. I don’t care what it takes or how we do it, but I’m shoving our trophy up Yongha’s ass. You got that?”

“Wow, and people call me dramatic,” says Donghyuck, quietly.

Mark, who is still a little stunned at the finger being shoved in his face, opens and closes his mouth. No words seem to leave. Then, he blinks out of it and a frown forms over his eyebrows. “They want us to prove ourselves? Then, we’ll do just that.”

“That’s nice and all, but we still suck,” YangYang puts in. “Well, most of us. They’re kind of right. We’re just going to get laughed at.”

“No, we won’t. We’ll work hard and we’ll prove them wrong. If we needed motivation, I think we just got it.”

“This is going to be interesting,” Renjun mutters.

Lucas nods. “You can say that again.”

*

Jeno keeps an eye on Jaemin as they head to their lockers. Mostly because, well, he can’t ever not look at Jaemin, but also because of what happened with Yongha. He can tell by the tightness in his shoulders and the crease between his eyebrows that Jaemin is still upset about it. Maybe not angry, but certainly upset.

When Jaehyun lost the Championships, it was hard on Jaehyun. But when he left because of the loss, because he thought he couldn’t be anywhere that reminded him of it, it was hard on Jaemin. Jeno had been there when Jaehyun moved out with no thought to ever coming back. Heartbroken was an understatement to how Jaemin reacted.

They may not be blood related, but Jaemin clung to Jaehyun like any little brother to a big brother would. He idolized him much like Mark does now. In a way, he still does. Jaehyun had always been there. Until he wasn’t.

So, yeah, Jaemin loves Jaehyun. They’re brothers for life. So, if anyone decides to attack Jaehyun, Jaemin is ready to stand up for him. He’s ready to fight. That isn’t shocking to Jeno one bit. Because he also knows that if anyone were to try something with any of their friends, there would be hell to pay. Jaemin may not be competitive, he may choose to sit and watch rather than be a part of something, but he has no issues throwing punches to anyone who dares to belittle or hurt the people he loves.

Jeno thinks it’s admirable. And maybe even a bit attractive, but he tries not to think too much about it. He’d rather no violence, at all, and so would Jaemin, but rare moments like what happened at the cafeteria occur and that’s when Jaemin puts aside his morals for the sake of protection.

By the time they reach Jaemin’s locker, Jeno’s asking, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“M’fine,” he says, going to take out his books.

Jaemin’s hands are shaking and, before he can stop himself, Jeno is reaching forward to take them in his own. He’s not totally sure, but he thinks he hears Jaemin suck in a breath. They used to hold hands all the time as kids and then slowly grew out of it. Sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, Jaemin will link their fingers together and swing their arms ridiculously. Jeno thinks it’s safer when Jaemin starts it. If Jeno does, it feels like he’s giving too much away and Jaemin will know.

When he looks up, Jaemin is watching him, eyes scanning his face. Jeno knows he should let go. He just can’t find it in himself to.

“You probably shouldn’t have tried to fight him,” Jeno mutters.

Snorting, Jaemin rolls his eyes and says, “He had it coming. Honestly, they’re all a bunch of cowards. Nothing horrible is going to happen if we try to play. If we lose, we get laughed at. It’s been worse, I think.”

“Has it?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Jaemin stares at their hands, at the way his fingers curl around Jeno’s. “We’ll make it work. I trust Mark. He usually knows what he’s doing.”

“As long as Donghyuck doesn’t rile him up again.”

“Yeah.” He laughs and, god, it’s music. “They’re interesting, those two.”

Jeno hums, a little too distracted by Jaemin’s touch. It’s warm and familiar and it’s got a calming effect that makes him kind of sleepy. If he could just lean forward and rest his head on Jaemin’s shoulder, that would be ideal.

And he wants to. Maybe that’s why he shuffles forward, gaining Jaemin’s attention again. There’s no twist of frustration on his features anymore. Just openness, something analytical. He doesn’t seem startled by their closeness. All he does is watch, dark eyes set on Jeno’s. A strange mix of nervousness and comfort curls in his stomach.

He’s about to lean in, to do what he wanted and put his forehead on Jaemin’s shoulder and just stay there, but a voice startles him. He rips his hands out of Jaemin’s and spins around to find Eunji marching toward him. Her high ponytail swings back and forth like a metronome.

“Jeno, we need to talk,” she says as she comes to a stop in front of him. There are still people wandering, getting ready for class, including a few more members from the squad, who watch from down the hall.

He feels a hand rest on his hip. In his ear, Jaemin asks, “Do you want me to stay?”

Fighting the shiver that attempts to shoot down his spine, he nods. Then, he asks, “What’s up, Eunji?”

“I saw what happened at lunch,” she says, “with Yongha.”

“Oh, yeah. That, um…Yeah.”

“Maybe he’s right and this whole baseball thing should be left in the dark,” she says. He stiffens. “Remember our conversation from before? You get distracted too easily. I really need you at your full potential this year. Being on a baseball team won’t help you. It’ll be too much. Cheerleading is already a lot, as is.”

Jaemin’s fingers dig into his hip and Jeno tries his best to ignore it. “It’s going to be fine. I’m just helping out a friend. And the practices don’t interfere with cheer—”

“ _Anything_ interferes with cheer,” she states, crossing her arms. “You need to be open for any and all practices. Even the ones that are last-minute. And what about the games? Some of them might fall on when we have to perform. Jeno, you’ve been on the squad for all of high school. Do you really want to mess that up for a baseball team that probably won’t even win its first game?”

“I just—I, um—It’s not going to—”

“Think about it,” she cuts in. “I would suggest you figure out where your loyalties lie. And, just know, that if you continue to do both and it messes up with cheer, you _will_ be gone. Got it?”

Unsure of what else to say, he simply nods. She spins on her heel, ponytail whipping around, and stalks away. The moment she’s out of sight, he sighs and leans back. Jaemin is there to keep him from falling. If he wasn’t battling his stuttering heart from how nerve wracking that whole conversation went—Eunji does a number on his anxiety—it would be stuttering at how Jaemin’s arms wrap around his middle and keep him upright.

“Don’t worry about her,” Jaemin mutters. “We’ll make it work. Nothing will interfere with cheer. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, come on. We have to get to class.”

Suddenly, the warmth is gone and Jaemin’s digging back into his locker as if nothing ever happened. Jeno ruffles his hair in an attempt to gather his thoughts. God, when did things get so complicated?

*

Jaehyun’s only seen them in action once, a brief moment before they called their sudden meeting to a close on Friday. Still, it was enough for him to get the basics.

For one: Mark and Donghyuck have the most knowledge of the game through actually playing it. Both of them know what they’re doing.

Mark is quick on his feet. He can catch without fear, always willing to reach to grab the ball. Jaemin had told him that Mark was mostly trained as a Catcher and it shows because, well, his pitching is abysmal—though in an actual game it won’t be needed—and his batting is fairly decent. Definitely better than most of them, anyway.

On the other hand, while Donghyuck’s swing is practically perfect, even Jaehyun can tell that it’s not something he focuses on. That might come back to bite him in the ass because he will need to bat during a game. And while his pitching is phenomenal, if he can’t work with Mark then their Battery will suffer for it.

Then there’s Jaemin. Having studied the manual over and over, he has a sense for the rules. He can even quote it, the showoff. But, in practice, everything is just…good. He can bat all right, he can throw all right, and he can catch all right. Nothing is polished. Nothing is perfect. But it does give a solid base to grow on.

Out of all the rest—the ones who don’t have much knowledge at all—Chenle stands out the most. He mentioned playing in a little league once or twice, but, clearly, it wasn’t anything professional. Here and there a talent pops out that shocks Jaehyun and all he can think is the potential that’s there. Chenle could be a great Batter and maybe even a Pitcher, if he’s determined enough.

Jeno, Jisung, YangYang, and Lucas are the ones who need the most work. Jeno is still afraid of the ball, Lucas doesn’t know what to do with all his strength, YangYang is often too distracted, and Jisung needs to work on his confidence.

There’s a lot to note and a lot to notice and Jaehyun thinks, overall, it isn’t a bad group of kids. They just need to be taught.

And that is where the pressure comes in.

“Feet wider apart,” he tells YangYang. “That’s it. Firmer grip, hands a little lower. Okay, memorize that feeling because that’s where you need to be at the start of each bat.”

“It feels weird,” he mutters.

Jaehyun smiles. “Yeah, it will for a bit. Okay, so Donghyuck is going to pitch. Something easy,” he says to Donghyuck, who nods in response. “Just try your best, YangYang.”

YangYang shoots him a thumbs up before wiggling back into position. The throw he gets is slow and simple and he does hit it. Just not nicely. The ball flails out of bounds, making the boys on the side chase it down.

“Not bad,” he says. “Don’t worry about it hitting you. You need to move into the motion. Mark, you’re up.”

It’s obvious that, while Donghyuck doesn’t listen to Mark, that Mark doesn’t listen to Donghyuck either. There’s some sort of rivalry there and it helps no one. Definitely doesn’t help the team. They bicker like they’ve been married for fifty years and even Jaehyun, who’s only been around them both twice, wants to pull his hair out.

Rivalry isn’t bad. In fact, it can be rather good. It can force people to adapt and learn and get better. But this? This is something on a different level. Both of them want to beat the other, but not in a productive sort of way. Donghyuck has fun throwing pitches he knows Mark won’t hit and Mark is constantly egging him on just to get Donghyuck angry. It’s a sight, sure, but it’s useless.

“You’d think,” Donghyuck says, loud enough for Mark to hear, “that after all this time, you’d be able to hit one properly.”

Mark scowls as he misses another pitch. It hits against the back net.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Donghyuck, ease up. Your teammates aren’t the enemy.”

“Right,” he grunts, digging his toe into the mound. His shoulders are stiff.

“How long have you been playing?” he asks.

“Since I was six.”

Nodding, he says, “That explains some things.”

“Does it explain his attitude?” Mark shoots back.

Donghyuck whips the ball at him. There’s no form, just the goal of trying to hit Mark, who yelps and jumps away.

“Hey, hey,” Jaehyun says as he holds up his hands and stepping between them before Mark can toss the ball back. “You two need to work together if we want this to work. Mark, you need to work more on your throws. Grab Lucas and YangYang. Better yet, grab them all. Start a catching circle. You,” he points at Donghyuck as he grabs the bat from Mark with his other hand, “need batting work.”

Behind him, Mark snickers. “Mr. Perfect isn’t so perfect? Shocker.”

Donghyuck marches up to snatch the bat. “You better run before I hit you with this.”

Mark hesitates, as if he isn’t sure Donghyuck is serious or not. But then he scoffs and wanders off to collect everyone.

“You’re so used to throwing the pitches, that you’re losing touch with how to hit them,” Jaehyun tells him as Donghyuck takes his place at Homeplate. “You need to do both in order to get a better feel of everything.”

“Are you pitching?”

“Yeah, I am. I’m not as good as you, but I’m all you’ve got.”

And it’s true. Jaehyun’s pitching skills aren’t the greatest. Still, he has some tricks up his sleeve, things he’s picked up on. Standing on the mound, he realizes that he hasn’t actually pitched in years. It feels foreign.

“Ready?”

Donghyuck gives a gruff nod.

It feels even weirder when he throws. Like his body knows what to do, it just can’t seem to make it work. He’s kind of surprised that the pitch even makes it to Donghyuck, period. And even though it isn’t the smoothest, Donghyuck swings for it anyway. The ball bounces back at him.

“Sorry, my bad,” he says as he runs to get the ball. “You’ve got a good swing. You just need to remember to move into it. Another?”

This time, Donghyuck hits it rather solidly. Jaehyun notes that’s he’s a fast learner. That’s good.

“I might team you with Renjun for a bit,” he says after a few more throws. Together, they make their way over to the rest of the team. “He seems to have the best bat out of all of you.”

“He does.” While the compliment sounds rather flat, there’s a glint in Donghyuck’s eye that’s akin to pride. “You know, I doubt we’ll actually be ready for a game. We have—what?—another week or so before the tournament starts.”

Jaemin, who has the ball, stops to say, “Wow, you have so much faith in us.”

“It doesn’t matter if I have faith or not,” Donghyuck states. “The fact of the matter is, can we get a whole team up to tournament standard in, like, two weeks?”

Before anyone can start an argument, Jaehyun says, “He isn’t wrong. We have a lot of work to do in a very short amount of time. A lot of teams would have started practices before school even started.”

“Can we even be in the tournament then? Is it worth it?” asks Chenle.

“I think it is. Even with the small number of practices you’ve been to has shown a lot of growth. That being said, it’s going to be hard. If we want to win, we have to give this our all.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Besides, I’ve already signed you up, so you can’t back out now.”

“We’re in?” Mark asks, eyes sparkling. There’s so much excitement there than Jaehyun has to laugh.

“Yeah, we’re in,” he says and he can feel the buzz go over them all. Nervousness and anticipation. “But, like I said, we have a lot of work. The first thing is individual skills. Meaning, you all need to work on your catches and throws and batting. They’re important and we need to make sure that we’re on top of it. The second thing is teamwork.”

They all glance around at each other. Sure, they look like a team. All of them are dressed in their gym uniforms, holding various baseball equipment. They’re clustered together as if they’re one unit. But they don’t feel like a unit. Jaehyun can tell they’re all still split into their tiny groups. He needs to bring that together, as a whole.

“I know that face,” Jaemin says, furrowing his brow. “You have an idea.”

“I do.”

“A good one or a bad one?”

“Depends on how you look at it,” he admits. “When I was on the team, we went through a series of trials to bring ourselves together, to help us build friendships and trust. It made us one cohesive unit. I knew that if I fumbled, my teammate would be there to pick up the slack.”

Jeno tilts his head. “So, what’s our trial?”

“Camping.”

A beat of silence.

Mark is the first one to break it, slowly and skeptically. “Camping?”

“Yep,” he says. “Camping. What you all need is to learn to work together in a very short amount of time. What better way than to stick you in the middle of the wilderness and force you to survive?”

Donghyuck, looking a little confused, shakes his head. “And they let you be a coach?”

“I mean, it isn’t a bad idea,” puts in Jeno, gaining everyone’s attention. He flusters under all the eyes. “I just—I mean, he’s got a point. Camping requires people to rely on one another. Especially if we’re in close quarters. The squad sometimes does things like this. It’s a good way to build teamwork.”

“Great!” Jaehyun claps his hands together, startling them all. “We’re going camping.”

“We aren’t talking, like, tents and stuff, are we? Because I don’t think I could survive that,” Jaemin puts in. “Camping and me? No. Not at all.”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Jaehyun says, “Worry not, little brother, I’ve got this all planned out.”


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!   
> I'm doing a bit of an early update because this chapter is somewhat short and I know everyone is excited for the camping trip. So, I decided to upload Chapter Ten now and sort of...get it out of the way, and then we'll start the camping trip on Tuesday.   
> This kind of thing won't happen a lot just because the chapters take so much longer to write with my new job and I like to stay ahead a bit just in case I can't write at all during the week or something. Still, I'm sad I can't give you guys quicker updates. :( 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. The next chapter will take us all camping!

Mark studies the baseball between his fingers. It’s one of the ones from the school storage room. The threads are fraying and the leather stained. It looks like it’s seen too many years, passed between too many hands. Mr. Moon had said they weren’t getting new equipment, which is fine in a sense. It’s just that, well, it kind of just makes the whole thing a lot sadder. Shows all those people at lunch yesterday that the school really doesn’t think they can win, that they can’t succeed in any way.

But Mark wants so badly for them to succeed. Not just because of his own dream, but just to make things easier on his friends, on his teammates. While a few of them are doing this because of interest, the rest are really only doing it because Mark begged them to. He doesn’t want them to be dragged down and humiliated. That was never the plan.

Unfortunately, that’s what’s happening. People have been watching them even more so since yesterday. He’s heard whispers and rumors. Most of them talk about Jaemin punching Yongha in the face, which never happened, but when Jaemin hears it, he smirks. Mark knows that the more time that goes by, the more people will start watching even more. They’ll be waiting for them to fail.

Mark’s not sure how he feels about that.

Determination burns in his chest when he gazes down at the ball. He passes it between his hands, glancing up to notice a few students across the hall staring at him. Failing or not, he’s going to try his damnedest to make this work.

“Are you still mad at me?”

Mark looks to Jaemin, who’s frowning, books in his arms. Jeno hovers at his side. “What?”

“I said, are you still mad at me? For not telling you that Jaehyun was my brother,” he elaborates. Mark can tell he’s trying to keep his expression calm, despite the worry that downturns his lips, otherwise.

“No,” he replies. “I was never really mad to begin with. Upset, maybe. But not mad. Why?”

“You just zoned out there and I thought you were ignoring me. I really did think about telling you,” he admits. “I just…I wasn’t sure. You look up to him so much and—I don’t know.”

“It’s whatever,” he says, rolling the ball between his fingers. “I mean, I kind of get it. I guess I was more upset about the fact that you just didn’t tell me, period. But, it’s fine. Um, speaking of Jaehyun, though.”

“Uh oh,” Jeno says. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that...Do you really think this camping thing’s a good idea? I mean, I trust Jaehyun—”

Jaemin smirks. “Of course, you do.”

“But to have us all together like that? Is that going to work?”

“It doesn’t seem like it’ll be that bad.”

“Donghyuck will be there,” he deadpans.

Giving Mark a patronizing pat on the head, Jaemin says, “You won’t die. Besides, the whole point is to bond. So, like, bond with him? You have things in common. Weirdly enough.”

“He’s so impossible, though!”

“You’re just easy to tease. Don’t give him a reaction and it’ll be fine. Jaehyun knows what he’s doing.”

“He wouldn’t have suggested it if things were going to fall apart on us,” Jeno puts in. “Right?”

“Right,” Jaemin agrees. “Just don’t worry about it, okay?”

Mark leans back against the lockers. “Easy for you to say.”

“Yeah, it is.” The bell rings and Jaemin adds, “See you at lunch. Try not to think too hard about it.”

Mark slips into the classroom once Jeno and Jaemin have wandered off. He takes his seat at the front and pulls out his books. At least for now, he can try to distract himself from the inevitable of Donghyuck being a brat.

Civil.

That’s what he’s trying to be. The problem is that Donghyuck makes it so damn hard and Mark can’t help but fall into his traps every single time. He knows he’s the only one to blame. If he could learn to let it go, to just let Donghyuck tease him without getting wound out about it.

Spending the weekend away, stuck on a campsite, with Donghyuck sounds like a nightmare. And, yeah, everyone else will be there, too, but not even they could make this whole thing sound exciting.

By the time the second bell has rung, Lucas has rushed through the door and taken the seat beside him. He manages to flash a smile before the teacher calls for their attention. Mark’s about to start taking his notes when the door opens.

His pencil snaps in his hand.

“Can I help you?” Mr. Kim asks.

Glancing up from the piece of paper in his hand, Donghyuck says, “I think so. Are you Mr. Kim?”

“I am.”

Donghyuck steps forward to hand him the sheet. “Mrs. Lee spoke to you about my transfer.”

“Right. Lee Donghyuck. Pick a seat. I suggest you be on time next time.”

“Hey, Hyuck,” greets Lucas as Donghyuck slips between their desks to sit in the only spot available, right behind Mark. “Not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?”

“It took a while for them to get me in the proper classes,” Donghyuck replies.

Twisting around in his seat, Mark frowns and asks, “Proper classes? This is a senior class.”

“Very astute, Prez,” he says, taking out his notebook. “I skipped a grade in some courses.”

“Lucky me,” Mark mutters.

Donghyuck grins and leans forward to whisper, “Lucky you, indeed.”

“Can I please have everyone’s attention? Mark, turn around,” Mr. Kim orders.

Mark has no choice but to listen, to spend the rest of the period trying to drown out the scratch of Donghyuck’s pencil and the feel of his presence directly behind him.

Fuck, he thinks. There’s just no way to get rid of him.

Mark isn’t sure which god he pissed off, but he apologizes profusely if it’ll get Donghyuck off his back for a little while. And, yeah, maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he needs to just let it go. But, even if he did, he doubts Donghyuck would let up. In fact, he has a sneaking suspicion it would just get worse because there’s no way it wouldn’t.

If there’s anything he’s learned about Donghyuck, it’s that he’s stubborn, refuses to let up. If Mark simply stopped, Donghyuck would seek him out. He’s already done it once before. What’s to stop him from doing it again?

There’s just no winning. He’s royally fucked.

By the end of class, Mark’s nerves are frazzled. He’s spent all period too in his head to really pay attention. Not to mention, Donghyuck’s presence is stupidly distracting. He couldn’t even see him and Mark was on edge.

Sensing Mark staring, Donghyuck glances up from packing up his things and raises a brow. “Can I help you?”

“Skipped a grade?” he questions.

Throwing the last book into his bag, he stands up and tosses it over his shoulder. “Shocked, Prez?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“That’s really cool,” Lucas puts in with a smile. “I wish I was that smart. Hey, you tutor?”

Mark gawks. “I’m tutoring you.”

“I can always use more tutors, Mark. I’m helpless in this class.”

“As fun as this is,” Donghyuck says, stepping between their desks toward the door, “I have other things to get to.”

“Right! See you!” Lucas practically shouts as Donghyuck disappears through the door. “He’s kind of cool.”

Mark collapses back into his seat. “He’s everywhere. Why is he everywhere? It’s like I can’t escape him, Lucas.”

“Dude, he isn’t that bad.”

“He doesn’t bother you,” he argues. “He bothers _me_. And he has fun doing it. Which is rude and annoying and—”

“I think you need to de-stress.”

“Baseball was my de-stress and now he’s there, too! Lucas, help me,” he whines, banging his head on the desk. “This is a nightmare. None of this is going to work. And now I have to deal with him outside of school this weekend and you and I both know that’s going to end poorly.”

“You’re thinking too hard about it. This weekend will be good. Besides, it won’t be just the two of you. It will be all of us. Think of how much fun it’ll be. A weekend away, no worries about school or work. Just baseball. This should be your dream.”

Mark lifts his head and frowns. “It would be if Lee Donghyuck didn’t exist.”

“Take all that frustration and put it to more practical uses. Remember what our captain last year used to say? If you can’t leave your troubles at the door, harness them on the court. You’ll be fine.”

“People keep saying that and yet I keep getting proved wrong,” he mutters. “I mean, what did I do to deserve this? Am I just that tease-able?”

“Yes.”

“Lucas!”

Tossing his head back, Lucas laughs. “Dude, just don’t give him a reason to tease you. Focus on what you know you have to focus on. I’m sure he’ll get bored, eventually.”

“You sound like Jaemin.”

“Jaemin’s a pretty smart dude.”

Oh, Mark knows. He hates it sometimes. He needs to stop surrounding himself with smart people. They’re always so mean to him.

Grumpily, he collects his things and starts out of the room after Lucas. They walk through the cluster of students in the hall, some of them still watching the two of them. It’s like they can’t go anywhere without someone staring at them.

“You think they’d have nothing better to do,” Mark grumbles.

“At least we don’t have to go through what Donghyuck and Renjun do.”

That makes him pause. “What do you mean?”

Coming to a stop at Lucas’ locker, Lucas says, “People talk about them. Even before the whole baseball thing. I mean, we’ve had people whisper about us before, but not like this. It’s not exactly nice.”

“What are people saying?”

“The norm,” he says. “Just the standard ‘they got expelled’ or ‘they were into drugs’. But that’s more than enough. I can’t imagine what they think of it all, transferring to a new school part way through the first week and knowing no one. A lot of people want to know why they came together.”

It’s definitely an oddity, Mark thinks. To transfer like that, together as a pair. People were bound to get curious.

“I overheard a few of the guys say that Donghyuck was suspended because something happened with a teacher,” Lucas told him, leaning down so he can’t be heard by anyone else. “I mean, the things people come up with. It’s kind of amazing that they aren’t being crushed by it all, you know?”

Worrying his lip, Mark wonders how much of it is true. He’s never been into gossip. Jaemin thinks it’s amazing how he doesn’t pick up much, in general. He spends too much time focused on other things than what people are saying. Still, he knows not everyone is the same. Some people thrive on spreading rumors, even if it effects someone else’s life in the process.

“It’s probably just rumors,” he mutters.

Lucas nods. “Probably. They seem too chill to cause any real trouble. Well, I mean, other than annoying you, but that’s hardly anything.”

“Thanks.”

“I doubt they’ve done anything horrible. Just can’t see it. Hey,” Lucas nudges Mark’s shoulder and he looks up from his shoes, “don’t worry. Rumors always blow past. Before we know it, people will be more focused on the cafeteria food than the baseball team or two transfers.”

“Right,” he states. “Yeah, of course.”

But, while they may blow past, that doesn’t mean they don’t cause damage as they go. He thinks of Renjun’s calm exterior and Donghyuck’s smug smirks and wonders if they know, if they hear it all. They must. Both of them seem like observant people.

Lucas and he start toward their next class. On the way, he tries to block out the voices. He just hopes Lucas is right and that it’ll blow over because, no matter how annoying Donghyuck is, no one deserves to have gossip and lies spread about them. 

*

“You want to take them camping?” Mr. Moon peers over his glasses, eyebrows almost to his hairline. “Are you serious?”

Sighing, Jaehyun leans back in the chair. He pulled one over earlier to sit on the other side of Mr. Moon’s desk. “They want to succeed, but they have no idea how to bond as a team. This is the best way to do it.”

“Look, Coach Choi was able to do all those things because he had the backing of the school. You don’t have financial backing, Mr. Jung—”

“Jaehyun.”

“Jaehyun,” he says, taking off his glasses, “I know you want to help these kids and I admire that, but you’re just going to have to come up with another way to do it. There’s no way I could get the school to sign off on it. Maybe you can do a fundraiser or something.”

“We don’t have time for a fundraiser,” Jaehyun says. “The first game is in two weeks. That’s too soon. Can’t I get a little help?”

Mr. Moon shakes his head. “I can’t even get you guys new uniforms, which is going to be difficult when it comes to Lucas and Jisung. They’re so tall.”

They are. Fitting them into the old uniforms is going to be a tough time. “They can’t win if we can’t help them out. All the teams get some kind of compensation.”

“They’re all winning teams,” he says. “And the ones that don’t win, don’t get any help. They have to do it all on their own. The baseball team is no exception.”

“They used to win. One loss and you’re going to condemn them? These boys deserve a chance, Mr. Moon.”

“Taeil.”

Jaehyun nods. “Taeil.”

When he suggested camping to the group, he figured it might be the easiest thing to get a sign off for. Mostly because it doesn’t cost that much compared to all the other ideas he came up with. A bus and a cabin. The rest Jaehyun can take care of.

Yet, somehow, Jaehyun’s managed to screw the boys over before even becoming their coach. It was his fault the team lost, his fault the school cut the team, and his fault that the school won’t even bat an eyelash at them because of it all. Jaehyun knew this would be difficult, but he never thought it would come back to bite him in the ass like this.

And, sure, while he could maybe just take them to the park for the day, it won’t have the same effect. There’s a difference. They don’t need to be in a park with other people and leave at the end of the day. They need to be out on their own, forced to interact because they have no choice, and to know that they are going to have to stick with each other through the night into the morning. It’s reliance and they need to know what that feels like.

Jaehyun remembers hating the first time he went on a training camp. After a while, he started to look forward to it. He wants his own team to feel that way.

Taeil leans on the desk. “I want to help you. I really do. But I don’t have a way to. Even if I could get some money, it wouldn’t get you what you want.”

“Anything would help,” he says. “I’ll pay the rest. I just can’t do it all on my own.”

“You really want to do this.”

Looking down at his hands, Jaehyun says, “I don’t want them to go through what I did. They’re already going to be looked at strangely for even starting up the team again. Imagine if they lose. Taeil, they’re good kids and they have a ton of potential, but I can’t do it all without some kind of support in my ideas.”

“Do you really think taking them camping will help them?” asks Taeil.

“It’s amazing what a little wilderness survival can do for a group.”

Taeil’s eyebrows draw together. “Have you ever read Lord of the Flies?”

“I can take care of them,” he chuckles. “It won’t be an issue.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Taeil studies Jaehyun’s face. Then, he sighs. “Fine.”

He shoots forward. “Really?”

“But I won’t be able to get you all of it. Maybe the bus and part of the cabin. The rest will all be on you.”

“Fine, that’s totally fine. I—Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Taeil says as he turns to his computer. “I’ll send in the request. You want to take them this weekend?” Jaehyun nods. “It’s really short notice, but if I do my job right, you should hear back by tomorrow.”

Standing from his seat, Jaehyun smiles. Dimples and all. “You’re the best, Taeil.”

“If only my mother thought so. Now, shoo. I have requests to file.”

He knows his bank account is going to take a hit for this, but it’ll be worth it. He knows it. No matter what, he’s going to get them to Nationals. They deserve at least that much.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not going to lie, when I started this fic, Mark wasn't supposed to get...like he is (you'll see...I added a new tag). It just sort of happened. Now, we're just going to go with it because it's too late to back out now!
> 
> Anyway! We made it to the camping trip! I've said it in a few comments, but there were was A LOT of things I wanted to put into this weekend trip. I had so many ideas. But, obviously, a lot of them didn't make it in. That being said, I hope it's still entertaining and interesting :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

Chenle knew that the moment they got on the bus after school that all hell would break loose. He just didn’t expect it to happen before the bus started moving.

“I’m not sitting with him,” Mark argues as he stands at the very front with Jaehyun at his side, clipboard in his hands.

Donghyuck, who’s already placed himself in one of the seats with his feet up, replies, “I’m not exactly happy about it either.”

“There are so many seats,” Mark continues. “Why do I need to be in _that_ one?”

Never in Chenle’s life did he think he could find two people who bicker worse than his parents. They make it no secret that they dislike being around each other, picking the smallest things possible to argue about, and make sure everyone in the area knows about it.

As entertaining as it is, it’s also kind of exhausting. He has no idea how they don’t tire each other out, to be honest. They’ve gone through several practices with Mark and Donghyuck constantly going on and on and yet they seem too stubborn to stop. If this is their new Battery, they may be infinitely screwed.

“It’s only a couple of hours, Mark,” Jaehyun says, calmly. Chenle thinks he might be appealing to Mark like that because everyone and their mother knows that Mark has a celebrity crush on him. He does a terrible job at hiding it. “If it’s really bad, you can move. But try. Please?”

Mark crosses his arms, glancing at Donghyuck from the corner of his eye. Chenle thinks that while Mark dislikes Donghyuck, he likes Jaehyun more, which is probably why he takes the spot next to Donghyuck, in the end, stiffly and still frowning. Jaehyun smiles like he just won the lottery.

“Great,” he says. “Okay, kids, here’s the deal. It’s about two and a half hours until we reach the site. That’s two and a half hours stuck with someone you probably don’t know a lot about. I want to hear chatter. Get to know one another. But keep the volume to a minimum.” He shoots Mark and Donghyuck a look. “If anyone needs anything, feel free to ask. Other than that, are we all good to go?”

They all murmur agreements and the bus starts up the moment Jaehyun sits down at the front. Chenle takes a moment to look for Jisung, who’s in the middle of the bus with YangYang at his side. When he found out that they would be separated, he hadn’t exactly been happy. Not that he was upset with his seatmate, Jeno, but just because Chenle was kind of worried about Jisung being on his own.

While they haven’t known each other long, having met on Jisung’s first day of school while he was wandering lost, they’ve grown accustom to being by each other’s sides. Jisung is quiet, lacks a lot of confidence, and tends stick to the hips of people who he can learn from and hide behind. Chenle has never found an issue with it. He likes having Jisung around, especially now that Jisung is getting more comfortable around him. But having him try to socialize without a buffer seems mean.

Biting on his thumb, he glances around. Mark and Donghyuck, for once, aren’t speaking. Renjun and Lucas are paired up, which is an interesting combination that leaves Lucas rambling about something and Renjun completely silent, maybe even a bit flustered if Chenle could see properly. Jaemin, the lucky bugger, gets to be by himself. He wonders if that’s because, out of all of them, Jaemin is the one who has no problems bonding with people. That leaves himself and Jeno.

Not a bad combination. He thinks it could have been worse. He isn’t sure how he would talk to Donghyuck or Renjun, or even Mark. Not that he would have particular issues with them, but just because they seem like the hardest to click with right away. Chenle likes easy conversations, easy connections.

Jeno is definitely that.

He’s calm and friendly. He reminds Chenle of a slightly more mature and confident Jisung. He likes that.

“I bet they start shouting at each other in the next twenty minutes,” Chenle says as he turns to Jeno, who raises a brow at him. “Donghyuck and Mark. Five thousand won.”

“You really want to bet on whether or not they’ll fit?”

“Why not?”

Jeno pursed his lips, glancing up toward the front of the bus where Donghyuck was looking out the window and Mark was promptly ignoring him. “I say thirty minutes.”

“Deal.” He shakes Jeno’s hand with a smile. “So, you ready for this?”

“It’s going to be an adventure, for sure. You?”

Chenle nods. “I am, actually. My parents don’t normally let me go on trips of any kind by myself.”

“Oh, really?”

“Protective and all that,” he explains with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine. It’ll be nice to hang out with people my age for a couple of days.”

“I think the only thing I’m not looking forward to is the actual baseball,” Jeno grumbles.

“You really don’t like it, do you?”

Shaking his head, he says, “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just that I can’t do it. Mark’s right. It makes no sense that I can do flips and stuff, but not catch a stupid little ball.”

“To be fair, that ball can hurt if it hits you.”

Jeno frowns. “Thanks.”

“No, like, it’s a fair fear to have,” he insists. “But, I mean, that’s why we’re going, right? To learn. I’m sure by the end of this trip you’ll be catching all the balls.”

“Phrasing.” When Jeno winces, Chenle laughs. “Thanks, though.”

“No problem. We’re all in this together, now.”

Just like Jaehyun said, they need to learn to rely on one another. This trip isn’t just about having fun. There’s a goal in sight and Chenle knows they have to make it before they try an actual game. Otherwise, they really will be laughed at.

Glancing over to Jisung, he finds him looking over his shoulder. Chenle gives him a wave, smile on his lips, and Jisung’s lips twitch before turning back around. Beside him, YangYang has completely shifted himself to be face to face with Jisung, his hands moving a mile a minute while he speaks. He really is a ball of energy. Chenle has seen him pause, collect himself, but then he’s immediately back like an energizer bunny.

Stretched out across the seat near the back, Jaemin has his headphones in and a notebook in his lap. Chenle has no idea what he’s writing, but the look on Jaemin’s face seems serious, concentrated, so it must be something important.

By the time he glances over at Lucas and Renjun, he’s kind of surprised to see Renjun quietly talking and Lucas looking as though he’s hanging on his every word. He nods and leans closer. Chenle notices the way Renjun straightens up, ears red, but doesn’t stop talking. While he thinks they’re somewhat of an odd pair to get along, he thinks it also kind of works. Opposites that click. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.

“Nope! I don’t want to do this anymore!”

Oh, and there starts the other set of opposites that Chenle is starting to think will _never_ work. He peeks at Jeno, who’s already digging out five thousand won from his bag.

Mark shoots up from the seat. The same seat that Donghyuck is currently cackling on as if he’s found the funniest thing in the universe.

Pointing at Donghyuck, Mark says, “Jaehyun, I can’t do this. I can’t sit with him. He’s a menace.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Donghyuck states.

“Then you’re also deranged!”

Jaehyun sighs, turning in his seat to face them. “Boys, please. Just chill. Mark, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

“I will, but not with him.”

Leaning on the back of the seat in front of him, Donghyuck says, “You’re such a baby, Prez. Honestly. You need to stop letting everything bug you. I mean, it’s funny, but you’re going to stress yourself out. You don’t want wrinkles at seventeen.”

“I wouldn’t need to even think about wrinkles if you weren’t always trying to egg me on.”

“You _let_ me egg you on.”

“I do _not_ —”

The bus jolts. Chenle sucks in a breath as Mark goes flying forward. Luckily, he doesn’t make it very far because Donghyuck’s out of his seat in a blink, hand wrapped around Mark’s wrist to keep him from crashing to the front of the bus. There’s a beat where everyone holds their breath.

“Sorry! The person in front of me slammed on their breaks,” says the driver. “Everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” Jaehyun tells him, though his words feel tight. “Everything’s fine. Mark, please, just sit down.”

Donghyuck yanks on Mark’s arm until he’s back beside him, back on the seat. “Idiot,” he hisses. “Can you at least try not to get yourself killed or something before we even make it to our first game?”

Silent and pale, Mark nods. For once, he doesn’t retaliate. Donghyuck exhales loudly and throws himself back into his spot, arms crossed, and looks out the window.

“I’m starting to think that this trip might come with some complications,” Jeno mutters and Chenle nods in agreement.

Jaehyun is definitely going to have a lot easier time teaching Jeno how to not fear the ball than to get Mark and Donghyuck to become friends. Or even just a Battery, in general. They don’t even have to like each other, but they have to at least learn to trust each other. That, he thinks, seems like an impossible feat at this point.

“So,” Chenle says, dragging his eyes away from the back of Mark’s and Donghyuck’s heads, “tell me about cheerleading.”

Fortunately, Jeno takes the switch of subject. It’s best to pretend nothing happened and let them figure out their own shit. If they want to argue, they can argue, but Chenle has other things to achieve this weekend. Like figuring out what he needs to do to win their first game.

*

“This is it,” Renjun says, somewhat dubiously and seriously unimpressed.

Mark feels that.

After getting off the bus—thank god because after almost shooting through the windshield, he wanted off that hellride—Jaehyun led them up a forest past to a clearing. That’s how they find themselves face-to-face with the place they’ll be staying at all weekend.

The cabin, much to Mark’s disappointment, is small. It’s nestled near the tree-line, off to the side of the clearing, leaving the rest a fairly large area to spread out in. The door looks like it creaks and he’s pretty sure that if it rains, the roof would leak. While it doesn’t look rotten or completely run down, it does look worn, which doesn’t surprise Mark one bit. This is a pretty popular camping area. Just in front of the cabin is a firepit, wood missing, but ash still present.

All in all, it looks very sad. Mark glances at the rest of the team to find them all with the same frowns as if they’re all thinking what he’s thinking.

“How many rooms does it have?” Chenle asks.

Mark kind of wants to laugh because the cabin looks like it doesn’t have any at all, it’s so small. Still, Jaehyun smiles and says, “One. Go check it out.”

They all look to Mark, who tenses at the sudden attention. When Jeno nudges him in the side, he realizes that they’re waiting for him, waiting for him to lead them into their new home for the weekend. Mark’s been Student Body President for a few years now and, yeah, he’s used to taking the reins a lot of the time because of it, but something about this feels different. None of them had ever talked about a captain. Everything’s been so crazy that it’s never really been needed. Except, without even a word, they’ve all turned to him, almost as if it were normal.

Mark’s not really sure what to take of that. He’s kind of honored, but also kind of terrified. Because if this whole thing doesn’t work out, he could have eight boys blaming him for years to come.

Still, he starts ahead, anyway. He takes the few rickety stairs to the door and pushes it open. It creaks like he thought it would. Somehow, inside is a lot larger than it looks from the outside. There’s a small kitchenette with no stove, a tiny living room with a grungy looking couch and two doors on the side that lead to what he assumes is the bathroom and a bedroom. Everything is squished together, but it’s not awful, he supposes.

Chenle is the first one to make his way to the bedroom door. He takes a peek inside and steps farther in to allow everyone to follow. Somehow, they all managed to fit, which doesn’t seem all that possible.

Frowning, YangYang says, “There are no beds.”

Oh, so that’s why they fit.

“You’re right,” Jaehyun says, maybe a little too happily. “There aren’t. You get these lovely mattresses instead.”

He gestures to where Donghyuck and Jaemin are and the two of them turn, revealing thin, rolled up mattress spreads and a pile of blankets.

“You couldn’t afford the beds, could you?” Jaemin asks and Jaehyun’s smile twitches. “Seriously! My back—”

“Will be fine,” Jaehyun tells him with a wave of his hand. “You’re all young. You can bounce right back.”

“The ten of us aren’t going to fit in here,” says Renjun.

“Nine of you, actually,” corrects Jaehyun. “I’m taking the pull-out. Anyway, you might want to your sleeping arrangements in order before figuring out how to work the firepit. Otherwise, dinner will be an issue.”

With that, he slips from sight.

Chenle shoots Jaemin a glare. “Jaemin, I hate your brother.”

“It’s fine. We can make this work,” Jaemin insists. “We just…We can make it work.”

“You’re strangely optimistic,” Mark points out and Jaemin sighs.

“I’m trying, okay? It’s not easy. Now, help me with these mattresses.”

*

By the time they’ve managed to fit the mattresses together like some giant game of Tetris that takes up the entire floor, the sun is hanging low and Jaehyun reminds them that they’re going to have to eat at some point. Which is how Mark finds himself wandering around the tree-line with Chenle and Jisung, collecting dry wood for the fire.

“When he said camping, I wasn’t exactly expecting this,” Chenle mutters.

Mark nods. In a way, this should be better than what he was thinking this weekend would turn out. A cabin was definitely better than tents. Still, spending the night pressed up against eight other boys didn’t seem like a fun time to him and he debates whether or not he can fit on the floor beside the pull-out couch.

When they get back to the firepit, Jaehyun is working on getting the hotdogs ready and, somehow, Donghyuck and YangYang have managed to start a small fire. They make a pile of extra wood beside the pit and grab a log.

Dinner, it turns out, isn’t so bad. Jeno loses his food in the fire at least twice, resorting in Jaemin splitting his meal for him while laughing. Mark spends time talking to YangYang, learning about his travels from China to Germany and to Korea while Chenle tries to steal more food from Jaehyun’s portable cooler. The only thing that makes it better is that Donghyuck is on the other side of the pit and says nothing to him the entire time. Even though, at one point, they make eye contact and it looks like it’s going to. But then his lips pull into a tight line and he turns back to Lucas and Renjun.

Jaehyun leaves them to clean up, which, believe it or not, takes hardly any time at all with the nine of them.

Lucas is the one to kill the fire. “You don’t think we have a curfew, do you?”

“I doubt Jaehyun’s even thought of that, so it’s best not to mention it,” Jaemin says as they all head back to the cabin.

Mark is almost at the stairs when someone taps on his shoulders. Jisung glances down the moment he turns around. He shuffles his feet a bit, as if he doesn’t know how to stand and when he goes to speak, his voice cracks. Clearing his throat, he asks, “I was wondering if tomorrow you could help me?”

“Help you with what exactly?”

“Um, I—Anything, really. Batting, I guess. I just know I need some help…learning all this,” he mutters.

Mark can feel the awkwardness rolling off of Jisung’s body. It comes off in waves. Still, Mark is kind of proud. He knows that it takes forever for Jisung to get comfortable with people, especially to seek them out and ask them for help. Mark’s kind of honored that he came to him out of everyone.

“Yeah, of course,” he agrees. “We can team up tomorrow and check out where you are on things.”

Jisung’s eyes are sparkling when he says, “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve been doing really well, so I’m sure you won’t need too much of my help. You’ll know it all before you realize it.”

A small smile pulls at Jisung’s lips. “I appreciate that.”

Mark pats him on the arm. “Now, go on. Grab the bathroom now before everyone’s stolen it.”

He lets Jisung run up ahead of him and, as he turns to watch him disappear through the door, he spots Jaehyun holding it open. He smiles at Jisung before looking to Mark.

While he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s still a little starstruck when having to be near Jaehyun. He’s thought so highly of him for years that it feels like it should if he met his favorite band or actor. There’s this separation between them that makes Jaehyun feel untouchable and, yet, he’s here, coaching the team. It’s a little hard to believe.

“Hey, Mark,” he says as he hops down the steps. “Walk with me?”

Words stuck in his throat, Mark nods. They don’t make it very far, just back to the pit where Jaehyun takes a spot on one of the logs and gestures for Mark to join him. He does, albeit a little hesitantly.

“You’ll make a really good captain,” Jaehyun says.

Mark blinks. “Oh, I, um, never really thought much about it. I mean, we’ve been so busy just trying to get a team together.”

“A team you started,” he points out. “Not to mention, they look up to you. It shows they trust your guidance and that’s pretty important when it comes to being captain.”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, he asks, “You think so?”

“Yeah, I really do. You know, I asked Donghyuck, but I never asked you. How long have you been playing?”

“Since I could hold a ball. My dad was a baseball enthusiast and he taught my brother and I from a really young age. My brother never really got into it, but I did. He took me to all the local games.”

“So, that’s how you saw the game against SM and JY.”

Mark nods. “Yeah, it was super lucky that the Championship game happens in the winner’s town. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to see them, at all. He had gotten tickets to the game for us. It’s too bad he never got to see it.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun says.

“It’s okay,” he tells him with a smile. “He would have been so into that game, though. Such a close call on every front. He passed away a few months before and, well, I guess I just wanted to keep his memory alive, you know? There’s no way he’d ever excuse me giving up baseball when I like it so much.”

“You don’t think he would have been pissed? To see the previous champions take a pummeling.”

Frowning, Mark asks, “Why would he? JY Prep won, but it wasn’t as if SM High crashed and burned. Like I said before, I picked SM because they had a great team. You guys were, like, dream goals. It was just bad luck.”

“More like a bad day,” Jaehyun sighs.

“Okay, so your head wasn’t in it on that particular day? And it sucked. But that doesn’t deface your overall skills, right? I mean, I watched you play as Catcher since you started, pretty much. You were the reason I wanted to be a Catcher in the first place.”

Jaehyun coughs a laugh. “Me?”

“Hell, yeah,” Mark says, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Dude, you were amazing. Probably still are. You could hit all kinds of crazy pitches and your calls were always on point. The SM Battery since you joined was top tier!”

“You’re really a big fan, aren’t you?” Jaehyun smiles.

Ears warm, Mark ducks his head. He shrugs. “My dad got me into the sport, but I guess you could say that you made me stay. I wanted to be like you. I still kind of do. You’re kind of amazing.”

At that, Jaehyun chuckles and ruffles Mark’s hair. “You’re a good kid, you know that? Completely crazy, but a good kid. I don’t think I’ve ever had a fan before.”

“Trust me, you’ve had fans. You just never noticed it. There were always fans at the games. People loved the SM Battery in your first and second year. You either loved the Catcher or the Pitcher, and even still, you couldn’t deny what a pair you guys were. Unstoppable. Not that the Battery after wasn’t great either, but…You know.”

Jaehyun’s smile droops a little, the sparkle in his eye dulling slightly. Still, it stays there as he says, “Yeah, we did pretty good.”

“It’s too bad it didn’t last very long with him going off to university, but at least we got a good two years out of it before that.”

Jaehyun’s nod is a bit stiff and Mark tilts his head, unsure of what he said that would cause Jaehyun so much comfort. He knows that the Championship loss is a tough subject, but something tells him that isn’t what’s making Jaehyun close up on him.

But, before he can think much of it, Jaehyun slugs him in the shoulder with a tight smile and says, “Let’s just hope we can get a good Battery this year, yeah?”

The thought, while thrilling, also makes him a little nauseous, especially when he realizes that the only person who could be his partner is Donghyuck. Yeah, that’ll be lovely. He’s pretty sure he’s going to have no hair by the end of the season if he keeps pulling it out due to stress.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, it’ll be great.”

“Don’t stress too much. We still have a lot to go through. Anyway,” he gestures to the cabin, “you might want to head to bed. Tell the boys to, as well. We have an early morning and a lot to do tomorrow.”

Mark raises from the log, but when he notices Jaehyun isn’t coming, he asks, “You not coming in?”

Head tipped back to look at the stars, Jaehyun says, “In a bit. You guys clean yourselves up. See you in the morning.”

Mark leaves him at the pit, listening to the cicadas singing. When he gets inside, he’s surprised to see the whole team in a circle by the couch, laughing. YangYang is the first to notice him and waves him over.

“Hey, Mark! Join us,” he says, patting the spot next to him. “We’re playing spin the bottle and it’s fucking hilarious.”

Wrinkling his nose, Mark questions, “You’re _all_ playing?”

“Well, Jisung and Jeno have chickened out, but the rest of us are.” Noticing Mark’s discomfort, his smile turns from wide to simply soft. “It’s just a game. Besides, I’m straight as an arrow and I’ve already laid one on Lucas and Renjun.”

Renjun shakes his head. “This is a horrible game.”

“And yet,” Donghyuck says as he spins the bottle, “you’re still playing.”

Mark watches it spin and spin until he finally lulls to a stop, the bottle cap directed at Jaemin, who frowns, but doesn’t complain. He lets Donghyuck rise to his knees, take his chin between his fingers, and pull him into a kiss. The moment their lips touch, Mark shoots his gaze to his shoes, stomach churning.

“You’re not going to play, Prez?”

His eyes snap up to find Donghyuck smirking at him. Lips downturned and eyebrows furrowed, he crosses his arms and says, “No. I’m going to bed. Which you all should be doing. We have an early morning.”

Spinning on his heel, he marches into the bedroom to grab his pajamas—an old t-shirt and some joggers—and goes to leave. He halts the moment Donghyuck steps into the room. Quietly, Donghyuck goes over to his own bag, taking his time to take his things out to change. Leaving his stuff in a pile on the mattress he’s claimed, he steps in front of Mark, who’s continued to hover at the door to watch him. Why he doesn’t just leave is beyond him.

“What’s the matter, Prez?” Donghyuck asks, taking a step forward. Mark almost stumbles over the threshold backwards. “Not confident in your own masculinity to play a game?”

Mark isn’t sure what to say, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. It’s completely out of his control the moment his eyes flick to Donghyuck’s lips, the ones that just finished kissing Jaemin because of some stupid bottle.

He’s only ever thought about kissing a boy once and it was a mistake, a complete fluke, because, hell, he didn’t even like the boy he thought about kissing like _that_. It was just the result of a bunch of other things that messed with his head.

Still, it’s like he can’t get away from it, like someone keeps picking the scab off to remind him. Of course, he’s confident in his masculinity. That has nothing to do about whether or not he wants to kiss a boy, he thinks. Because he doesn’t want to. It was a mistake, a moment of poorly judged curiosity. And, looking at Donghyuck, he decides that he’s only staring because he’s waiting for more bullshit to come out of his mouth. His stomach flips again.

Donghyuck scoffs, jolting Mark’s gaze back to his eyes. They’re narrowed and his brows are pulled together. “Whatever.”

The door slams shut in his face. Behind him, he knows everyone is watching, so he tries not to glance back. Instead, he slips into the bathroom and shuts the door in order to lean on it. Pressing his heels to his eyes, he takes shallow breathes to calm his stomach, to keep his food down because, _fuck_ , he feels ill.

God fucking dammit.

He might actually be sick. Heart pounding, he reaches out to grip at the sink and face himself in the mirror. His reflection is pale, his pupil blown wide until his eyes are nearly black.

“You’re fine,” he breathes. “You’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with you. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

It will be, he thinks. Because it has to be.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday!
> 
> I'm kind of excited, but also nervous for this chapter. I'm not totally sure why I'm nervous, considering it's a pretty easy-going chapter. Still, I'm posting it, anyway.   
> We're going to start getting a little deeper into the mysteries of Jaehyun and Donghyuck from here on out. I know, up until now, we've seen Jaehyun grow quite a bit, but not so much Donghyuck and there is definitely a reason for it. He has his moments, but we also have to remember that his actions are seen through Mark and Mark isn't always the best at keeping his emotions in check as we saw from the last chapter. He's got a lot going on in that head of his and Donghyuck, of course, isn't helping (like at all...he's a brat, right now), but things will unfold!   
> I also want to thank each and every one of you for reading this, leaving a kudos, and/or leaving a comment. It means the world to me and I probably would have slipped away from this story if it weren't for all your support :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

Jaehyun wakes them up with Reveille blaring from his phone at the doorway, which shouldn’t have been as jarring as it was because Renjun’s not sure he was even asleep when it started. Despite the mattresses, the hard floor somehow made them virtually useless, so he spent most of the night tossing and turning.

Grogginess clings to his every limb and he spends breakfast battling with his eyelids to stay open. He’s kind of pleased to know almost everyone is in the same boat as they work away at their oatmeal. That is, everyone but two.

Jisung seems quite awake, though still quiet. He spends most of the morning making sure Chenle doesn’t run into doorways with his eyes still half-closed. Renjun almost doesn’t mind that Jisung is awake because he’s so quiet about it.

On the other hand, there was Lucas. Renjun’s pretty sure he’s never seen someone bounce out of bed, wide awake and smiling. Even Jaehyun’s startled when Lucas bounds past him on his way to the bathroom. It’s Lucas that Renjun is both envious of and super grumpy with. He can only handle so much happiness in the morning and Lucas radiated it like the sun. His voice is loud and boisterous and Renjun hates the fact that it’s adorable and ridiculously infuriating.

“Tell your boyfriend to shut up,” Donghyuck grumbles as he rests his head on Renjun’s shoulder after they’re finished with their food. His hair is a fluffy mess of golden curls. Renjun doesn’t think his hair is much better.

“Not my boyfriend,” is all Renjun can say, but his cheeks are already turning pink. “Get off me.”

Donghyuck wraps his arms around Renjun’s middle and snuggles closer. “You’re warm.”

Rolling his eyes up to the sky, he sighs. This is what he accepted when he agreed to be Donghyuck’s friend. And he’s not even sure he agreed. He’s pretty sure he just got held hostage and now he doesn’t know how to escape.

“All right, everyone,” says Jaehyun as he stands up and claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Training starts now. Get your runners on. We’re going on a run.”

Donghyuck snaps up. “A run?”

“That’s right! Now, up you get.” He starts off toward the trees. Realizing no one is moving, he pulls out a whistle and blows. Renjun winces at the sound. “Move, people!”

“He’s weirdly excited about this,” Jeno says, glancing at Jaemin as if he can explain it.

“Don’t look at me,” says Jaemin as he puts up his hands. “Baseball makes him crazy.”

“Oh, like Mark,” Lucas puts in and Mark glares at him.

This is how Renjun finds himself following a trail, behind everyone else, in the middle of the forest. Jaehyun was in the front, constantly reminding them to use the blue marked trees to guide them. Renjun didn’t care about the marked trees. He cared about his burning lungs and sore thighs. While he used to be on a team, he never had to do things like run through a rocky forest pathway to get warmed up.

They didn’t make him do much of anything, really. His stamina was never the greatest, which is why he spent more years on the bench than on the actual diamond, despite the fact that he was the only one on the team that had the best batting rate.

Now, he kind of wishes he had taken it upon himself to work out. Maybe then he might be in a better position than now, panting and sweating and wanting to crawl into a hole and never come out.

He lags to the back of the group until he can only walk. While he wants to stop completely, he doesn’t want to get too far behind and lose them all completely. Luckily, it looks like Jisung and Jaemin are pretty behind, too, so he won’t have to worry about being the only one to finish super late.

Holding his side where a cramp has made itself known, he sucks in cool morning air to try and chill his burning lungs. It just makes it worse.

“Hey, you okay?”

When he looks up, Lucas is jogging toward him, brows furrowed. Renjun’s heart does that stupid fluttering thing it’s seemed to have memorized so well.

Jaehyun had paired them on the bus, which he still isn’t sure was a good or bad. It isn’t that he dislikes Lucas. He rather likes Lucas—in a general sense, that is—so it wasn’t awful. But Renjun often finds himself incapable of forming full sentences around him even if he tries. And Lucas isn’t even all that intimidating. He’s just so…bright.

Which doesn’t make sense either because Renjun’s been around people like Lucas. Before everything happened, Donghyuck was like that as well. Always laughs and giggles and jokes. He had no problem being the spotlight of the room just to make people smile. So, Lucas isn’t a completely different breed of boy Renjun’s never come across. By now, he should be used to it, expect it.

But then Lucas smiles at him and Renjun’s legs sort of feel like jelly and his tongue feels like cotton. Good god, maybe Donghyuck was right. Maybe he does like Lucas a little more than just a general sense.

Well, fuck him. That’s not good.

“H-Hey, Lucas,” he tries. He mentally berates himself for the stutter. Come on, Renjun, you’re better than this.

“Out of breath, huh? Cramp?” Lucas gestures to his side.

Renjun takes the opportunity to play his breathlessness off as exhaustion from the run. Honestly, it isn’t that hard. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, it, um, just appeared.”

“Jaehyun’s definitely got wild plans for us. He wasn’t kidding when he said it would be tough,” Lucas says with a laugh and Renjun’s cheeks warm from the passing thought that, oh, he likes the way he laughs. “I’ll walk with you.”

“You don’t have to,” he insists.

“Don’t worry about it. Can’t lose each other in the woods, right?”

“Oh,” Renjun says. “Yeah, _great_.”

Why is it, that the moment he needs Donghyuck as a buffer, he’s never around?

Lucas casts him a wide smile before beckoning him on the path again. He can see Jaemin farther up ahead, so at least he’s not that far behind.

“Thank you,” he manages. “For, you know, walking with me.”

“No problem. I like spending time with you.”

Renjun’s heart jumps. It’s more startling than the cramp.

That’s alarming.

The thing is, Renjun doesn’t even remember the last time he liked someone. He’s not even sure if he has. No one he’s ever met or seen has gotten his attention like Lucas has. And maybe that’s why it kind of terrifies him. He doesn’t know how to act, his entire body doesn’t know how to react, and he just feels like a mess.

Huang Renjun is never a mess.

Well, around anyone other than Lucas, apparently.

So, walking with him through the forest, trying desperately to ignore the sudden realization that, perhaps, maybe, quite possibly he likes Lucas is extremely difficult.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” asks Lucas.

Renjun nods until he feels his brain rattle. “Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’m totally—”

His foot catches on a tree branch. Awkwardly, he tries to catch himself. Except, it doesn’t work and he starts to fumble off the path. A large hang grabs his arm and pulls until he collides with something solid. A little stunned, he glances up and up and up until he sees Lucas smiling down at him. It’s soft and kind of sweet and, shit, now he’s suddenly aware of every part of his body pressed against Lucas’. His hands on the soft fabric of a t-shirt that covers muscle—good lord, he suddenly feels very inadequate—and the strong arm around his waist to keep him secure and upright.

Renjun hopes Lucas can’t feel the way his heart is pounding because that’s just embarrassing.

Gathering the rest of his dignity, he shoves at Lucas until he lets go, clearing his throat and looking away. “Uh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucas says. “You didn’t twist an ankle, did you?”

“No,” he replies, ignore the dull throb in his toes from where they caught the root. “I’m fine. No harm done.”

Lucas offers a bashful smile, rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I guess I don’t need to carry you then, huh?”

Renjun blinks, mind blanking. “Oh, uh…No, I’m good. I, um—”

“Are you two coming?”

They both turn rather abruptly. Jaemin’s come back, his hair glued to his forehead with sweat and his face flushed. He looks exhausted.

“Yeah, we’re coming,” Lucas calls back. “We’ll be right there.”

Jaemin glances between them a couple of times, a brow raised. Then, with a shrug, he starts back down the path at a slow jog.

Renjun isn’t sure what’s more embarrassing: tripping and landing in Lucas’ arms or having Jaemin think there’s something more happening between them. Either way, they both feel humiliating and that’s why he starts walking.

“Hey, wait up.” Lucas jogs to his side and grins once more.

Unsure of what to do, he pulls at the sleeves of his shirt and watches his feet. He’s not going to trip again. But, he supposes, that if he were to fall, at least he knows Lucas will catch him.

*

After the run through the woods and the stretches, Jaemin feels like he’s going to die. Or maybe vomit. He’s not sure just yet. While his body decides, he collapses next to Jaehyun, who’s claimed Jeno as his victim of the morning. Jeno shoots him a helpless look and while Jaemin would love to help, he can’t quite feel his legs anymore.

But Jeno—Jeno’s looking fine. A bit sweaty, but fine. Then again, he must be so used to all this with being on the squad that it hardly affects him anymore. Unfair, really. Jaemin is just as strong as Jeno is and, yet, he’s the one on the ground dying and Jeno’s jumping right into practice.

At least he isn’t the only one having a rough time. Jisung’s chugging water and panting and poor Renjun looks like he may faint. Luckily, he has Lucas there to catch him just in case he does. Everyone else is just slightly tired. Mark is flushed, but ready. Donghyuck looks as though this is a normal day in his life, which makes Jaemin wonder how often he jogs in forests. Chenle and Lucas seemed to get over the whole thing a whole lot faster than Jaemin could ever imagine. And somehow, some-fucking-how, YangYang is bouncing around like his energy will never die.

Jaemin wants to shove him into the fire pit.

Out of all of them, however, Jaehyun seems the most at ease. In a way, Jaemin’s sort of happy for him. He knew getting Jaehyun back into baseball would lift his spirit, help him come out of that funk he was in for years. He just didn’t expect Jaehyun to be so into it so suddenly. He’s gotten very into his job as a coach.

Glancing down at Jaemin, Jaehyun furrows his brow and kicks him in the leg. “Get up. You’re helping me.”

“Let me die first,” he replies, dropping back to lay on the grass. “Then I’ll help. God, why do people do sports? This is awful.”

“To be a part of a team? To win? To have a sense of meaning?” Jaehyun offers. Jaemin groans. “Fine, you’ve got five minutes.”

“Ten.”

“Five”

“Eight?”

Jaehyun sighs. “Fine. Eight. But I’m counting.” He glances to Jeno and waves him closer. “Okay, here’s the thing. We need to get over your fear.”

“I know,” Jeno grumbles. “It’s not like I want to be scared.”

Nodding, Jaehyun says, “I get it. You have full control over your body when you do your trips, but there’s no control over the ball.”

“And it’s so _fast_ ,” he puts in, frowning at the ball in Jaehyun’s hand.

“It is, but there’s one thing you can rely on. You know what that is?”

Jeno shakes his head.

“Where it’ll end up. You can follow it with your eye and judge the trajectory.” He draws an arc with his finger. “From beginning to end. Also,” he holds the ball out for Jeno to take, “You can catch simply.”

“Simply?”

“Mhm. When I catch a ball on the field, I follow it with my eye and move my body with it. You’re so scared of it coming right at you, that you forget that you can move, too. I want you to pass that to me.”

Jaemin watches as they take a couple of steps away from each other. Jeno’s throw is soft and a little low, but Jaehyun moves into it quickly and catches it before it can hit the ground.

“See?” he asks. “I moved into it. Now, I’m going to throw this to you, just like you did, and I want you to step to where you think it might land. Okay?”

It’s interesting because Jeno is a relatively quick learner with not a lot of fear. He doesn’t mind jumping into things, which is why becoming a gymnast was so expected. He has no issues throwing himself into flip. But when it comes to baseball, he ends up hesitant and shy.

And while hesitant and shy Jeno was kind of adorable, it didn’t sit right with Jaemin. He’s been friends with Jeno since they were in diapers. He’s seen Jeno take things full-force with no regrets. So, it’s strange to see him flinch away from something as small as a ball.

Sitting up, he wraps his arms around his legs and searches for everyone else. He knows that if keeps looking at Jeno, that he may make him more nervous than he already is.

Mark’s taken Jisung and Chenle to the side of the clearing to practice their batting. In another free spot, Lucas, YangYang, Renjun, and Donghyuck have clustered together to start a rather epic throwing circle. A lot of the tosses were wide or high or too fast. YangYang even dives for one of the pitches Donghyuck throws at him.

If there’s one thing to be glad about, they all seem to be getting better. He thinks, in another couple of weeks, they might actually have a chance. If the team they’re up against isn’t all that good.

He turns back just in time to see Jeno step into a throw and catch it. He still fumbles, still winces as it hits against his glove, but it stays there, snug in the leather.

Jaehyun beams so wide his dimples show. “There you go! You’ve got it!”

“I did it,” Jeno mutters, staring down at the ball as if it were a marvel. “I did it.”

“Now, you just need to do it again.”

Jeno’s eyes snap up. “Again?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Again. I want you to team up with Renjun, okay? Just keep moving into the throw.”

Before he goes off to find Renjun, Jeno glances at Jaemin and asks, “Are you coming?”

“In a bit,” he replies.

Jeno nods and runs off.

Hands on his hips, Jaehyun turn on him. “It’s been eight minutes. Up.”

“I think you’re enjoying this coach thing a little too much,” Jaemin tells him.

“You were the one that wanted me to do it?”

“But I didn’t want you to run me into the ground. I’m your little brother. You’re supposed to treat me with love.”

Jaehyun holds out a hand to help him up with a slight smile. “I do. Tough love.”

“I knew being a coach would help,” he says, brushing off his pants. “Come on, who was right?”

Pursing his lips, he shakes his head, but the face doesn’t last and he laughs. “Fine, okay,” he admits. “You were right. Happy?”

“Thrilled beyond belief, I tell you.”

“Sometimes, I don’t know what to do with you.”

He jabs his thumb toward the cabin. “Let me take a nap, maybe?”

“Nice try.” He throws an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders. “You have some serious practice to get up to. You can take YangYang, Lucas, and Donghyuck and do some trial bats.”

A sigh escapes him and he tosses Jaehyun’s arm off of him. “As much as the drill sergeant thing is kind of annoying, I _am_ glad that you’re feeling better.”

“So am I,” he says. “I feel…more like myself than I have in ages. I never realized how much actually missed baseball, or any kind of sport, really.”

He’s really happy for Jaehyun. It’s been a long time coming and to have his brother back to his old self feels like a miracle. He doesn’t feel like such a stranger, a shell of a man. Still, there’s something about him that feels incomplete, as if he’s trying too hard to make this team fill all the voids and holes he formed over the years. All the extra enthusiasm doesn’t feel totally authentic.

Sure, he’s happy with what he’s doing, and baseball has really brightened him up, but he’s almost trying too hard. Jaemin may not have seen his brother for almost four years, but he still knows him like the back of his own hand. He knows that Jaehyun’s not totally back yet. It’ll take a little more than that.

Biting his lips, he links his fingers together and rocks back on his heels. “You know, since you’re starting to feel better and all,” he starts, slowly, “and you’re getting back into baseball and trying to find some closure, I was thinking that maybe you should, you know, call him?”

Jaehyun’s shoulders tense, his jaw locking into place and his brows pulling together. He narrows his eyes at Jaemin and says, “No.”

Jaemin flutters his hands around, a little nervous, a little frazzled. It’s a dangerous topic, one he probably shouldn’t even bring up, but he isn’t stupid and he knows that Jaehyun’s not going to be completely healed until he faces all his demons.

“You can’t just ignore him,” Jaemin tries.

“You would be surprised by what I can ignore,” says Jaehyun. “No, I’m not calling him. Or texting him. Or going anywhere near him. No and end of discussion.”

“Do you even know what he’s doing right now?”

Jaehyun turns away from him to pick up an extra ball. “No, and I don’t really care. Look, I’m fine where I am, Nana. I don’t need anything else. You got me to coach the team. Be happy with that and let me live my life.”

“But what if—”

“Jaemin!” He spins around and Jaemin clamps his lips together. “I said no. Now, leave it.”

It takes everything in him to accept the defeat and nod. It’s stiff and awkward. “Okay.”

Jaehyun pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“I just—I need time. More time.”

Jaemin’s not really sure how much time Jaehyun needs when he’s had almost five years to process everything. But he keeps quiet and doesn’t try to argue. The last thing he wants to do is start a fight in the middle of the woods with nowhere to go.

He’s about to tell Jaehyun he’ll grab the others and do what was asked of him when Jaehyun mutters, “Oh, shit. Not again.”

Across the clearing, everyone is gathering, but not for anything good. Mark shoves Donghyuck back, who bounces back with just as much force. Jaehyun and Jaemin bolt to pull them apart with the help of everyone else. Renjun’s got Donghyuck by the arm with Lucas trying to tell him to back down, while Jaemin pushes Mark back toward Jeno. Jaehyun parks himself in the middle.

“What the fuck is going on?” he snaps. “I leave you for fifteen minutes and you’re at each other’s throats.”

“He started it!” Donghyuck shouts.

Mark glowers. “The fuck I started it! You were the one that threw the ball at me!”

“It was an accident!”

“Accident my ass!”

Jaemin and Jeno scramble to grab Mark’s arms before he can lunge at Donghyuck once again. It never ends, he thinks. They just don’t get along, always clashing. It doesn’t matter what it is, big or small; anything can set them off.

Never in his life has he seen someone set Mark off like a firecracker so quickly. In fact, he can’t remember the last time Mark tried to fight anyone. Jeno may be the steadiest out of the three of them, but Mark is pretty damn close. He isn’t a fighter. He isn’t an angry person. But Donghyuck pisses him off like nothing Jaemin’s ever seen.

And Mark seems to set something off in Donghyuck, as well. It isn’t anger, per say, but something else. Something that gets him started, makes him want to tease Mark to unimaginable levels. Yeah, sure, Mark is tease-able. Jaemin finds his reactions kind of adorable. But Donghyuck gets snarky, savage, and borderline mean in ways he doesn’t with anyone else.

Jaemin’s seen him talking with Lucas, YangYang, Chenle, and even Jisung. He’s friendly in a sardonic sort of way, but still friendly. He takes time to even teach them. But Mark? Mark is a whole other tale and even Jaemin is struggling to figure out what it is. He just hopes they don’t murder each other.

“I get it,” Jaehyun says, eyes flicking between the two of them. “I get that you don’t like each other. Hell, you don’t _need_ to like each other. But you need to learn to _work_ with each other because, unfortunately, you’re the only two skilled enough to be our Battery.”

Donghyuck huffs, ripping himself from Renjun’s hold. Mark crosses his arms and looks away.

“You can be angry at each other all you want, but you’re going to be a team. Which means you need to understand one another and fight like a team.”

“I can’t work with him,” Mark presses. “He drives me crazy.”

“As if you’re any better, Prez,” Donghyuck scoffs.

Before Mark can retort, Jaehyun holds up his hands and says, “Deal with your shit or don’t deal with your shit, but you’re our Battery and we’re relying on you to pull through. Which is why,” he points to Mark and then to Donghyuck, “you two will be on ball cleaning duty tonight.”

“What?” they shout in unison. Jaemin flinches when Mark yells right in his ear.

“No! Jaehyun, please. Don’t do this,” pleads Mark.

Jaehyun shakes his head. “Nope. Fifty balls. All clean. By the morning. Prepare yourselves, boys. After dinner, you’re officially stuck together until the job is done. Now, Jeno with Renjun, Jaemin with YangYang and Lucas. Donghyuck with Chenle and Mark with Jisung. I’ll rotate.”

As he walks away, Mark gapes. “He can’t do this. He can’t.”

“Maybe this is what you two need to get to know one another?” Jeno suggests and Jaemin thinks he’s adorable for trying.

“I really doubt that,” Mark mutters. His eyes follow the way Donghyuck marches off with Chenle chasing after him. “If I die, tell my mom I love her and that my brother can have my room.”

Jaemin shoves his shoulder. “Stop being dramatic. You’ll be fine. For now, try not to think about it. You can pity yourself later.”

“I need new friends,” is all he says before turning to Jisung and leading him away.

Jaemin thinks Mark wouldn’t be able to survive without himself and Jeno, so Mark should just get used to it.

*

Mark wasn’t kidding when he said he needed new friends. He needs new friends, especially because the ones he has have both sent him pitiful smiles before disappearing with the rest of the team inside the cabin while Jaehyun grabs the bag full of baseballs and drops them in front of Mark and Donghyuck.

“All right,” he says, clapping his hands together. “I want them spotless. Once you’re done, put them back in the bag and go to sleep. Got it?”

“Isn’t this child labor?” asks Donghyuck, leaning down to open the bag. He has two brushes and a bowl of soapy water at his feet. “I’m pretty sure this illegal.”

“And I’m pretty sure I don’t really care.” He shrugs. “You both need to figure out what to do because I can’t keep breaking up fights, but I also can’t afford to kick you off the team. So, be friends or don’t. Just keep it civil. Have fun.” He turns away before adding, “If I hear shouting, you two get to run extra laps tomorrow.”

Mark keeps his mouth closed even long after Jaehyun disappears. He simply grabs a ball and a brush and starts. Surprisingly, Donghyuck does the same. The only sound is the rustling of the trees and the cicadas that surrounded them. Plus, the scrub of the brush. It’s a steady, quiet sound.

The more he cleans, the more he realizes that he’s never really been in trouble before. He’s always been the model student, the one who’s good and has teachers ask him for help, the one that looks after people. The one that stops fights, not starts them.

He’s not sure what exactly is wrong with him because people like Donghyuck aren’t abnormal. He’s faced people with attitudes like Donghyuck’s and has never gotten overly angry. Frustrated, sure, but not angry.

And even today, when he thinks back to it, could have seriously just been an accident on Donghyuck’s part, but he was so set on fighting that he didn’t really think about it. All he knew was that a ball hit him in the back and he knew Donghyuck was the one that threw it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he tries to see what Donghyuck is doing. Unsurprisingly, he was working away with his own cleaning, ignoring Mark completely. It felt almost wrong because whenever they were together, Donghyuck always had something say. Seeing him quiet and concentrated and maybe a little too irritated to even look in Mark’s direction was strange.

In the fading sun of the day, everything turns gold. The leaves, the grass. Even Donghyuck, who’s already so tan and golden, seems to shine even more. His curls set off like a beacon. It’s distracting. Mark can’t help but find himself staring, following each curl, taking in the slop of his nose and the cut of his jaw that seems a little too sharp for someone with such soft features elsewhere. He doesn’t look like a menace, like a demon sent to raise hell in Mark’s life. He looks like a boy dipped in gold.

A lump forms in his throat and he clears it, glancing away. His ears feel warm and he knows they’re red because, shit, he was staring a little too closely. That wasn’t…He shouldn’t have.

“If you’re going to stare, at least ask before you do it,” Donghyuck says, catching Mark off-guard. His voice is bland, tired, maybe even a little bit tense. He doesn’t look up from the ball he’s scrubbing away at. “Otherwise, it’s creepy.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Mark grunts.

Donghyuck turns his head to squint at him. “Sure. Of course, you weren’t. What? You got something to say to me?”

“Why do you say everything like you’re ready to fight me?”

“Maybe because you make it so easy?”

Mark frowns. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, quit staring at me, you creeper.”

“I’m not a creeper,” he hisses because he knows that if he raises his voice the others will hear. Jaehyun will hear and then there will be extra laps. “God, you’re so infuriating.”

“Ever thought that you’re quite infuriating yourself?” asks Donghyuck as he drops the ball and brush into his lap. “You tried to punch me today because I threw the ball and YangYang missed.”

Mark opens his mouth, ready to argue. Then he realizes that Donghyuck is right, in a way. It _was_ just an accident. He grits his teeth.

“You know,” Donghyuck says, “the first time I met you, I knew you would be easy to bug, but I never thought you would get to this level. Fuck, I should have just stayed away. The fun of bugging you is gone and now I just want to—” He lets out a little growl, tossing the ball toward the bag and picking up a new one.

Rolling his eyes, he looks down at his brush and rubs at a particularly stubborn grass stain. “You say that as if my reactions are all my fault. You were the one that was an asshole.”

“So, you became one, too?” Donghyuck scoffs. “After I told you to fuck off, you should have just kept your apology to yourself and left me alone. Then maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“This isn’t all my fault,” he snaps.

Donghyuck rubs at his nose and sniffs. “Fine, fine. Both of us were assholes. And, yet, that doesn’t change the fact that both of us are here because you think _everything_ I do is some kind of act of aggression towards you.”

“Isn’t it? You’ve been nothing if not brutally honest in your opinions of starting this club. You degraded everyone’s skills the moment you met them. And you’re nothing if not annoying _and_ a brat.”

Mark bites his lip to keep himself from blurting out anything else because Donghyuck’s not looking at him anymore. His shoulders are hiked up and his fingers fumbling to clean the ball. Something feels amiss. And maybe that’s just because he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get Donghyuck. Everything he does and says, they make no sense.

There might be a reason. Hell, there has to be a reason. Renjun had said he had some. But that doesn’t change the fact that Donghyuck’s attitude is nothing if not completely uncalled for. Then again, maybe Mark hasn’t been helping by over-reacting all the time. Maybe Donghyuck isn’t trying to start a fight every time he teases him.

“Why are you here?” he asks, voice barely a whisper.

Donghyuck’s fingers stop. Tiredly, he glances at Mark and says, “Because we got in trouble?”

“No, I mean, _here_.” He shifts so he can face him head on, but Donghyuck never turns toward him. “On this team. At SM High. What made you leave your old school?”

There’s silence and he wonders if he’s hit another sore spot. The last time he did, Donghyuck told him to fuck off. He sure hopes that won’t happen again. If Jaehyun wants them to be a Battery, the trust has to start somewhere. Mark can’t be annoyed forever. He doesn’t think he has that in him. He doubts that Donghyuck does, too, oddly enough.

He turns the ball in his hands. “There are rumors,” he starts.

“I know,” Donghyuck says after a moment. He inhales sharply and the next time he speaks, his voice is strong. Maybe a little too strong. “I particularly like the one that said I broke into the school to destroy the principal’s office and then stole his car. That’s fun.”

“Most of them are lies,” Mark continues, ignoring Donghyuck’s poor excuse of deflection. “I wouldn’t mind knowing the truth.”

A small, airy laugh escapes Donghyuck. His eyes are dark when they turn on Mark. “You think you’ve earned the truth?”

“I don’t know,” he confesses.

Donghyuck shrugs. “There was an incident with my coach. My teammates were jerks about it, so I left. End of story.”

“That’s it?”

“Does there need to be more?” He moves onto another ball.

Mark eyes him before asking, “What school?”

At that, Donghyuck smirks. “JY Prep.”

It hits Mark harder than he thought it might. Of course. Of fucking course Donghyuck came from their rival school. Of course, he did. As if things couldn’t get any more twisted.

“You played for JY Prep?” he asks and Donghyuck nods. “That’s why you joined. Because you found out we were going up against them.”

“Look,” Donghyuck says, as he sets his gaze on Mark again. This time, the sun hits his face and everything glows just that much more. Even his eyes. “You can try to play nice with me all you want, but, at the end of the day, we aren’t a team. Sure, I’ll be Battery with you. Sure, I’ll pitch. But I’m not your friend and I don’t trust you and you don’t trust me. Just accept that and we’ll be just fine.”

“You aren’t even going to try?” Mark asks, slightly bewildered that even he thought about trying. Trying to become friends, at least.

Donghyuck, who suddenly stood up, opens his mouth. As if thinking better of it, he presses his lips together, shakes his head, and starts toward the cabin.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m done my twenty-five,” he replies, reaching the door. “Good night, Prez.”

The door slams shut. Mark glances down to find twenty-five perfectly clean balls. He still has several left himself. Groaning, he drops down, head between his knees.

He wants to blame Donghyuck for everything because, well, he started it. But he knows he hasn’t been that much of a saint either. He had just hoped that maybe they could come to some terms that would work for them both, some kind of compromise. Except, now, he’s starting to think that it will never happen.

Donghyuck seems to dislike him too much to even consider it. Mark isn’t sure what that upsets himself so much. Although, he’s willing to bet that it’s because he’s never met someone who has disliked him. Ever. It’s upsetting. It makes him want to fix it, but there’s no way he’d be able to if Donghyuck didn’t want to try.

He sits up to look up at the sky, now turning a deep blue. He can see the moon and all the gold is gone.

Well, here’s hoping that they can dislike each other, but play a good game, he thinks, bitterly. Otherwise, their chances at winning Championships against Donghyuck’s old team has just gone down the gutter.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday! I hope you're all doing well :)  
> This chapter has a bit of a surprise in it that I'm sure a lot of you have been waiting to see, so...I'm just going to let you read it haha
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

While Jisung would like to say that this whole baseball thing is becoming easier, he’s starting to realize that there’s a lot more than just hitting a ball and running in a circle. There are rules he’s never even thought about, things he never even considered. When the ball flies past Chenle and Jaehyun calls out ‘Ball’ instead of ‘strike’, Jisung is terribly confused. He’s happy to know he isn’t the only one because YangYang and Lucas both ask what that is.

Turns out, a Ball is a pitch outside the strike zone and the batter doesn’t swing. Four Balls and the batter gets a free pass to first base. Donghyuck shakes out his hand, looking a bit peeved that he missed the strike zone. Granted, he’s been a bit peeved all morning. Somewhat snappy, but otherwise quiet and grumpy. He’s a little out of it and Jisung wondered if it has anything to do with his punishment with Mark last night. Still, no one asks.

Jaehyun’s put them all in positions, calling them up to bat whenever someone gets three strikes. Jisung hasn’t had a chance to go up yet, but Chenle and Jaemin have. While both of them did decently, they both never made it to first base.

Jisung thinks this isn’t a good sign. Then again, not all the teams have a Donghyuck, who goes out of his way to make people fail. Even on his bad days.

“YangYang,” Jaehyun calls, waving him over. “You’re next.”

Chenle switches with YangYang as Center Fielder with Lucas on the left and Jeno on the right. As usual, Mark’s taken to the Catcher’s spot and Donghyuck to a makeshift Pitcher’s mound that he made of dirt and then stomped on until he deemed is suitable. Hovering on their plates, which is really just large, flat rocks they found, are Jaemin—who had taken Chenle’s original spot on Second Base after he finished striking out—Renjun on First and Jisung on Third. With their numbers, they have no one as Shortstop. Jisung kind of doesn’t mind, though, because he still doesn’t really know what that position does. But it sounds impressive.

During breakfast this morning, Jaehyun announced that he would be announcing their positions. Exciting, yet terrifying. Jisung hopes that he’ll get something that requires him to not be in the way. Working with Mark yesterday has helped quite a bit, but he still feels like he has no idea what he’s doing half the time and he would rather be in a less meaningful position than anything else. He would rather not be the one to ruin their chances at winning.

None of them know what they’re going to end up with. And even though Mark is bound to be Catcher, he still glances at Jaehyun as if he’s waiting for a different position to be called out. Jisung can’t imagine anyone else doing it. He’s pretty much safe at this point.

“Go with a simple one,” Jaehyun tells Donghyuck, who nods. The bat misses the ball by an inch and lands heavily in Mark’s glove. Marking something on his clipboard, he calls out, “Strike.”

Jisung thinks it’s somewhat unfair to train them with Donghyuck as Pitcher. The only person who can hit one of his pitches solidly is Renjun. Then again, maybe it’s a good thing because most teams don’t have a Donghyuck. Maybe Jaehyun’s making them get used to the worst-case scenario so that everything else will be easier.

God, he really hopes so.

“A little lower, YangYang, but you have a good swing. Keep that up.”

YangYang lifts the bat up. “Got’cha, Coach.”

This time, Donghyuck’s pitch is slightly slower—at least slower than average—and when YangYang swings, he hits it. The ball clips off the bat and flies between First and Second. An excited shout falls from YangYang’s lips and he jumps as the rest of the team scrambles because no one has hit a pitch like that before and what the hell are they supposed to do again?

The ball is closest to Jaemin, so he automatically moves to catch it, but Lucas comes bounding from the left side and Jeno does an awkward jazz square, trying to figure out if he should be going up to get the ball as well.

“Lucas, stay!” Renjun shouts and Lucas immediately stops running.

Jaemin grabs the ball and throws it to Donghyuck, who has to step off the mound to reach it before flinging it toward Mark. The whole time, YangYang bounces at Homeplate.

“Did you see that?” he asks, turning to Jaehyun with a grin so wide that even Jaehyun has to smile back at, despite the clusterfuck that just occurred. “I hit it!”

“You did,” he says. “Next time, run to First.”

YangYang rubs at the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah.”

“And, Lucas, you need to stay on the left side. Jeno takes care of the right,” Jaehyun yells over to him. “Guys, you need to communicate. Until we start getting the hang of things and learn some signs, don’t worry about shouting at each other.”

It doesn’t really get that much better from there. YangYang strikes out after that and Jisung only manages a bunt, but never makes it to First Base. As terrible as it sounds, it’s not all that surprising when Jeno strikes out almost immediately. However, Jisung is kind of proud that he tries to hit the ball instead of trying to run away from it.

Renjun manages to hit the ball on the first swing and is the only one to make it to First without much trouble. When he sticks his tongue out at Donghyuck, Donghyuck points at him; a clear indication that he’d get him next time.

Lucas is one of the final ones up to bat. “Let’s do this,” he says, rocking back on his heels.

“Give him a fastball,” Jaehyun orders.

A smirk stretches across Donghyuck’s lips before winding up and letting go. Jisung barely sees the ball. The blur makes it to Mark’s glove before Jisung can even blink. Mark tosses it back.

“Damn,” Lucas says. “Why do I get the fastball?”

“Just focus,” is all Jaehyun says. “Again, Donghyuck.”

Lucas is so much closer the second time, but it misses by a hair. By the time the ball makes it back to Donghyuck, the smile on Lucas’ face is gone and replaced with something a lot more serious. Jisung doesn’t think he’s ever seen an expression like that on Lucas’ face since meeting him. For once, he’s determined.

This time when Donghyuck pitches, Lucas times it perfectly. The bat swacks at the ball with a satisfying crack and arcs up and over them before coming back down between Chenle and Jisung. Startled, no one moves. Even Lucas seems stunned.

“And that,” Jaehyun says after a moment of silence, “is why I gave you the fastball.”

“There’s no way you knew I could hit that,” says Lucas.

Jaehyun smiles and turns his attention to his clipboard. “I hoped you would. You’re on the basketball team, keeping track of the ball going every which way is normal for you. Tracking a ball coming directly at you, no matter the speed, should, theoretically, be easy. Add in your strength and I’m sure, with a bit more practice, you could hit a fastball out of the park.”

Glancing at Mark, Lucas breathes, “I hit that.”

Mark lifts his helmet and grins. “You definitely hit that.”

“Dude!”

Jisung watches as Lucas practically tackles Mark in his excitement. There goes that moment of seriousness, he thinks.

“All right, everyone! Bring it in!” shouts Jaehyun, waving them over.

Jisung jogs up to Chenle, who smiles at him, and leads him over. Despite not knowing each other long, Chenle is really the only person he’s comfortable around. There’s just something about Chenle that makes things easier. He never has to worry about Chenle forcing him to talk or to do something he doesn’t want to do. Instead, Chenle just lets him be himself and it’s nice. Really nice. In a way, he still thinks he kind of doesn’t deserve Chenle as a friend because out of everyone in the school, Chenle could have anyone he wanted.

It’s kind of like Jaemin. The moment Jisung met him, he knew Jaemin was someone to rely on. Call it intuition or a sixth sense or something, but he had no issues following Jaemin around almost immediately, and Jaemin was nice. He was always there to answer questions and talk him through things.

After years of his mother begging him to talk to her, over and over again, Jisung likes that no one asks that of him. They welcome him without much thought about it. And when he does speak, they don’t make a big deal about it.

And it isn’t that Jisung hates talking. He just finds he doesn’t have much to say most of the time. Of course, the nerves of strangers doesn’t help, but even if he knows them he’d much rather listen to the story than be the one to tell it.

Which is why, when he comes to stand in the circle, just a little bit behind Chenle, he’s happy that no one tries to bring him in farther.

“So, like I said this morning,” Jaehyun begins, “I’m going to give you your positions. These may change as we go and I still expect you all to keep learning as many skills as you can, but, for now, this is what you have to work with. The Battery—”

“I think you can skip that,” intercepts Jaemin. “We all know it’s Donghyuck and Mark.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. “Yes, thank you, Jaemin. Fine, moving on then. First Base is Lucas. Second, Chenle and Third, Jisung.”

Okay, he thinks, Third is fine. It could be worse, but it isn’t. He’ll take it.

“Jeno, you’re our Right Fielder with YangYang as Center and Jaemin as Left. That leaves Renjun,” he glances at Renjun with a smile, “as our Shortstop.”

“Me?” Renjun points at himself. “Why me?”

“It’s a pretty demanding role and, considering you’re the only person besides Donghyuck and Mark with extensive baseball knowledge on the actual diamond, you’re the best bet. Not to mention, you’re quick and you’re agile. A bit more training and you’ll be a terror of a Stortstop. But we need to work on your stamina, desperately.”

Renjun nods, gripping his glove in his hands. “Right.”

“Anyone else have any questions about their positions?” When no one replies, he says, “Great. Starting next Tuesday, we’ll be training in those positions with a bit of change-up when we have time. Our first game is April fourth, so we have very little time to get this under our belts, got it?” They nod. “That being said, into positions. We’re going to try to run a few tricks you can do on the field.”

“Tricks?” YangYang asks.

Jaehyun grins. “Oh, just you wait.”

And Jisung is kind of excited. They have positions, they have a game coming up, they’re going to be taught tricks. In his fifteen years of life, Jisung’s never been a part of a team. It was just never in the cards for him. Although, it could have something to do with his shyness. Meeting Chenle had gotten him here.

Sure, the people are a little odd and a little more than chaotic, but it’s interesting and fun. There are times he’s a nervous wreck, but he feels useful, in a way. It makes him want to work harder, which is one of the reasons he asked Mark for help. So, yeah, he wants to be out of the way so everyone can do their job and he doesn’t mess it up, but he doesn’t want to always feel that way. He wants to help more than he can, right now.

Learning tricks, having a position. It’s starting to feel real. Everything feels like it’s clicking into place. And Jisung likes that. He likes that a lot.

“You coming?” Chenle asks, nudging him in the arm.

Jisung startles, bobbing his head up and down. “Y-Yeah. I’m coming.”

He spends the rest of their practice at home on Third Base. 

*

When Jaehyun finally calls lunch, Renjun knows he’s going to have to go talk to Lucas. He hadn’t meant to shout at him during their practice game. It just sort of came out. On average, he isn’t much of a yeller. He’s more of a I’m-going-to-glare-at-you-to-death kind of person. Or a quietly savage kind of person. Telling someone off in the most sarcastic way was his favorite hobby. But yelling? Yelling at Lucas? Yeah, not his most shining moment.

So, shuffling up to Lucas while everyone is distracted eating, makes his stomach churn, especially when Lucas spots him almost immediately and positively beams. It lights up his whole face, stunning Renjun into silence.

A very large part of him is confused because he’s pretty sure people should not look that happy to someone who shouted at you. And, yeah, it wasn’t that bad of a shout, but Renjun still said it a bit too aggressively to get that kind of response. At least…he thinks so.

“Hey, what’s up?” Lucas asks, moving over so Renjun can take the spot beside him on the log.

Somehow, over the fire, Donghyuck and Chenle have managed to put together a small grill so they can make grilled cheese. It’s a struggle, it seems, but it also looks to be working a little. At least the bread isn’t completely charred.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize,” he says, ducking his head slightly. God, he’s never felt so awkward in his life.

With furrowed brows, Lucas tilts his head. “Apologize? For what?”

At that, Renjun glances up and blinks. “For, you know, shouting at you. Earlier. It just sort of came out and I—”

“Shouting? You mean when you told me to stay back?” Suddenly, he throws his head back and laughs, shoulders shaking and causing Renjun’s poor heart to go into abrupt tremors. Gathering himself, his laughs coming out in small puffs between words, he says, “Renjun, it’s _fine_. You were right. I completely went out of my bounds. I guess I just got too excited and wasn’t paying attention. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His body visibly deflates, relief washing over him. Who knew liking someone was such a rollercoaster? He doesn’t want to be dramatic—he never has been—but he’s pretty sure if Lucas was upset with him, he wouldn’t be sure how to handle it.

“Oh,” he manages. “Okay. Sure, all right.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand lands on his knee. The warmth sinks through his joggers into his skin and he can’t stop staring at it.

“Really,” Lucas insists, his smile softer now. “You don’t have to worry. But I do have a question.”

Renjun doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods for Lucas to continue, instead.

“Are you, like, really uncomfortable with me?”

Stilling, he asks, “What?”

Lucas removes his hand, and the warmth with it, and says, “I’ve seen you with Donghyuck and you’re, I don’t know, more relaxed? Open? And then I was talking to him yesterday and he said you’re usually—Well, he used the word ‘abrasive’, but I don’t know if he meant that seriously or just to poke fun.”

Renjun side-eyes Donghyuck from where he’s sitting, only to find his friend looking back. Donghyuck winks and turns back to his job, trying not to burn the remaining of their lunch.

“Did he now?” he grits out.

“You just seem quiet around me and, like, shy.” The corner of his mouth curves upward in the smallest smile Renjun’s ever seen on his face. “Just know that you can be comfortable with me. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself, you know? Abrasive or not.”

“Wait,” he shakes his head, confusion settling in, “are you asking me to be mean to you?”

Lucas chuckles. “I’m just saying,” he says, standing up, “I think I could get used to you barking orders at me.”

When he winks, Renjun sucks in air so fast that he chokes. Before he can form a word, Lucas is snatching a sandwich off the makeshift grill and joining YangYang and Chenle’s conversation. There aren’t anymore winks or glances or smiles. Lucas has simply left him with that awful, _awful_ line and cut him off. Stunned him and then didn’t give him a chance to reply.

Renjun’s not sure if he should be pissed off or turned on.

Right now, he’s kind of feeling both.

“You look like you swallowed a worm,” Donghyuck says, shoving a sandwich in his face. Renjun glares at him. “What?”

Renjun grabs the sandwich. “What the fuck did you tell Lucas?”

The smirk he gets is full of smugness and pride and it’s irritating. “Nothing he wouldn’t figure out on his own, eventually. I mean, you can’t st-st-stutter around him your whole life.”

“I want to punch you in the face.”

“Get in line.” He drops down on the log with a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

Shaking his head, he says, “Nothing.” Then, he points at Lucas. “He _likes_ you. I think I can safely say you have nothing to be nervous about when you’re with him. Besides, it’s getting really weird seeing you reduced to mush every time he so much looks at you. Something is seriously wrong with you.”

To be perfectly honest, Renjun isn’t a fan of it either. He quite likes having the ability to talk. Still, he can’t stop his heart from doing a cartwheel when Donghyuck tells him that Lucas might actually like him. Well, that’s…that’s something.

But the good feeling settles a little too quickly, fumbles a little too hard into the pit of his stomach as he looks back at Donghyuck, who’s eyeing his half-eaten sandwich as if it has all the answers to the universe.

Wetting his lips, he shuffles a bit closer and whispers, “What’s actually going on?”

“Nothing,” Donghyuck replies, taking a bite so big he can’t fully close his mouth. “Nofink ah oll.”

What a load of bullshit.

Renjun frowns. “I know you better than you know yourself and something is wrong. You look upset.”

“Tired,” states Donghyuck. “I’m tired. It’s been a long couple of days.”

Except, Renjun knows that’s not the case. Nothing about baseball would make Donghyuck tired. He used to work well into the night on his pitches. No, this is something else that he’s hiding. Again. And the last time Donghyuck hid something it was bad and then things turned worse and then they ended up here. Well, the ending isn’t so horrible, but the rest was.

“Are you going to tell them?” he asks.

Donghyuck glances at him, lips pulled tight and jaw tight. That face again. The one that says he doesn’t want to talk about it.

Yeah, well, Renjun does.

“Tell them what, exactly?” Donghyuck questions, scrunching up his napkin. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“You know, they’d understand—”

“Renjun,” he hisses. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. And I certainly don’t want to tell them about it. So, leave it be. Please.”

At the last word, his mouth clamps closed. It’s not every day Donghyuck pulls out a ‘please’, so he listens and doesn’t press any farther, even though he knows, at some point, Donghyuck is going to have to tell them. He’s going to have to explain himself, his behavior, his past. If he doesn’t, it’ll come back to bite him in the ass and then he won’t be able to prepare for it.

Still, he eats his sandwich and doesn’t bring it up again. One day, Donghyuck will learn to listen to him. He just hopes, for Donghyuck’s sake, it isn’t too late.

*

After thirty swings, YangYang’s not sure he can feel his arms anymore. The bat droops on a swing and it takes all his effort to bring it back up. Fifty. He needs to do fifty. Luckily, it appears as if everyone else is struggling, too. The only person not breaking a sweat is Mark and YangYang is willing to bet that Mark does this far too often to be normal.

About an hour after lunch, Jaehyun lined them up, gave them each a bat, and told them to swing. Since then, he’s been circling them like a vulture, stepping in occasionally to fix their positions. It’s a lesson on stamina and form, he says. YangYang thinks it’s more torture, but he’s not going to be the one to say anything. And while his energy is still up, up, up, his arms want do go down, down, down. He knows as soon as they’re done, he won’t be able to hold anything for a while.

Granted, they don’t have much time left on their trip. The bus is picking them up sometime around six and it’s already closer to two. It’s strange because it doesn’t feel as if they’ve made a lot of progress, yet, at the same time, have. If anything, he feels more comfortable and he thinks all the others do, as well.

Plus, now they have positions. Who knew getting those would spark more determination? Even if YangYang doesn’t really know what a Center Fielder does. He’s assuming someone will tell him. Eventually.

“My arms are going to fall off,” he hears Jaemin whisper from his right. YangYang tries to smile through the pain. “Wait until he gets close enough. I’ll smack him with the bat and we can run.”

“It’s not so bad,” he replies, earning a look of disbelief. “Okay, it’s rough. But it could be worse.”

He takes a peek down the line. Everyone is still going, though some of them have slowed significantly. When Jaehyun comes by, they straighten out as if someone’s pulled on their stings. YangYang is keenly interested when Jaehyun steps up next to Donghyuck and angles his shoulders and bumps his arms up. For someone usually so perfect in form, Donghyuck seems to be getting most of the attention this afternoon. He’s also been quiet. It’s nice to not have to deal with the bickering for a bit, but he thinks the quiet is not good, at all.

“Good,” Jaehyun says as he comes around. “You guys are doing really good. Bats down.”

YangYang drops his. Just unlocks his hands and lets it fall. Lucas does the same thing, but, unfortunately, his is still in motion so it goes flying. Jeno ducks as it goes flying at his head.

“Dude!”

Wincing, Lucas says, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to.”

Donghyuck hands it back, face a bit flushed from the exertion. YangYang thinks they probably all look like that at this point. Even Mark, who barely bats an eye, is a bit red along the cheekbones.

“What’s next?” asks Donghyuck.

Jaehyun parks himself in front of them all. “Well, I had some other things planned, but, to be honest, I might just skip to the end. You guys did really well this weekend. I know it was super quick and it probably feels like we haven’t made a lot of progress, but I think you’ve made some leaps. Jeno can catch a ball.”

“Sometimes,” Jeno mutters, though he still smiles.

“You’re all getting down the swings and the catches. Some of you have even learned a lot of the rules. And I’d like to think you guys have gotten to know each other better.”

“I know Lucas snores,” Chenle puts in.

“You whimper,” Jisung adds.

Beside him, Donghyuck covers his mouth to muffle his snort. Well, Jisung zinging someone is certainly new. YangYang coughs a laugh at that.

“Sleeping habits aside,” Jaehyun says, “you’re starting to feel more like a team. But I have one more surprise for you. So, hang here and I’ll go get it.”

As he walks off, they cluster together to watch him.

“You don’t think it’s anything bad, do you?” Jeno asks.

“Doubtful,” says Jaemin. “It’s probably just another training exercise.”

“God, I hope not. I can’t feel my arms,” Chenle says.

Stretching his arm over his chest, Lucas says, “I can’t believe we’re going back tonight. I think I could stay here all the time. Even sleeping on the mattresses wasn’t so bad.”

“Speak for yourself,” Renjun grumbles. “I’m going to have a sore back for days.”

“Yeah, not the best sleeping arrangement. I would have preferred the tents,” agrees Jaemin. “And even then, I would have still disliked it. I hate camping. Too many bugs.”

“They aren’t that bad,” Jeno mutters.

Mark smiles. “But the rest wasn’t so bad. I think we did okay. We just have to keep it up when we go back. Practices will be even more important now that we have positions and stuff.”

“Aw, he’s being all captain-y,” coos Jaemin as he wipes at nonexistent tears. He leans into Jeno. “Hold me. Our baby is growing up.”

“I’m older than you,” he deadpans.

“Yeah, well, I’m more mature than you.”

“On whose account?”

“Mine.”

Jeno pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Seriously, guys?”

“Hey,” Chenle nudges Mark’s arm. “He’s coming back.”

“What is that?” Jeno asks, squinting.

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “You need glasses.”

“I have them. I just don’t wear them.”

YangYang peers closer. Jaehyun immerges from behind the cabin with a dolly. On it, is a giant bucket that he’s sure he could sit inside without any issues. What’s inside the bucket is a completely different question. It’s hard to tell where they are and Jaehyun’s moving relatively slowly, the dolly sometimes getting caught in the grass. As he gets nearer, Lucas and Mark hurry over to help him pull it over.

Lucas gasps, so loud it sounds like it hurts. “Are those water balloons?” 

Finally coming to a stop, Jaehyun grins. “That they are. When I did camping trips with my team, we had a tradition where we would prank the other cabin on our last night. I figured we should start a new tradition.”

“A water balloon fight?” Jaemin questions.

“Why not? I’m sure you guys could use a bit of fun before we have to go back to the real world. So, here you go.”

YangYang watches as Jaemin steps up to the bucket and plucks out a small, pink water balloon. It sloshes in his hand as he checks it over. It must have taken a while to fill them all up and YangYang wonders when Jaehyun did it.

“You’re willingly giving us ammunition,” says Jaemin as he passes the balloon to Mark. They exchange glances before both of them break out into sly smiles. “That was really a bad idea, big brother.”

Raising his hands, Jaehyun steps away, a shaky laugh expelling from his lips. “Ha ha. Very funny, boys.”

“Oh, no, I definitely like this,” Donghyuck says as he grabs two balloons, handing on to Renjun. “This is an idea I can get behind.”

YangYang skirts around Jaehyun to take one for himself. It wiggles in his hand, the cold pressing into his fingers. Giddily, he turns to Jaehyun and adds, “Come on, Coach. It’s just a bit of water.”

By now, everyone has picked one up and formed a line. YangYang tosses the balloon from hand to hand, waiting for someone to give the command.

“This is for you guys. Not for me,” Jaehyun tells them.

“It’s definitely for us,” agrees Chenle. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

“Ready?” Mark asks. YangYang nods along with the rest of them. “Time to catch a pitch, Coach. Now!”

YangYang hurls his balloon, along with everyone else. Jaehyun has no chance. The balloons hit him across the chest and down his legs. By the end of it, he wipes the water from his eyes and squints at them, dripping wet.

Slowly, he moves closer so he can reach between Mark and Jeno to grab a balloon. “Oh, you’re all going to regret that.”

In a flurry, they all snatch up handfuls of balloons and run away. YangYang aims for everyone around him, and accidentally nails Chenle in the face once. Their clothes stick uncomfortably, water drips into their shoes, but no one cares. YangYang, himself, hasn’t thought once about his arm muscles screaming from swinging a bat fifty times, or how his leg muscles hurt from their jogs and practices. The thrill and excitement takes over and all he can hear is the screams and laughs from his teammates, echoing throughout the clearing.

Lucas hits him in the shoulder with a balloon. The water splashes across his face. Unfortunately, it’s Lucas’ last balloon, leaving him empty handed. He ends up simply tackling YangYang to the ground with a battle cry. Before he knows it, they’re all there, climbing on top of him until his laughs turn into gasps of air. Through Lucas’ arm he can see Renjun, Jaehyun, and Mark watching from the side.

It’s ridiculous. They’re all soaking wet, but it doesn’t matter. They’re having too much fun to care and YangYang finally feels like something has clicked. He’s not sure what exactly. All he knows is that it feels right and he’s fully willing to see where that takes him.

*

“Look alive, Lee, I have a job for you,” Siwon says as he marches past Taeyong’s desk and drops a fax atop the work Taeyong is already dealing with.

The news room is bustling. Mice clicking, keys ticking, people chatting. It’s a melting pot of noise that, to a newcomer, is horrendous, but after a while it gets easier to drown out. For Taeyong, who’s worked here for nearly three years, it’s pretty much nonexistent.

He snatches up the piece of paper, scanning it as quickly as he can as he stands and races around his desk to chase after his boss. He catches the words ‘SM High’ and ‘Baseball’ and a lump forms in his throat.

“Wh—Why am I getting this?” he questions, stepping into Siwon’s office and shutting the door behind him.

“You used to go there, didn’t you?”

For better measure, he looks over the fax again. Yep, that’s his old school, right there. The one he tries not to think too much about.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Great. I need you to get a start on that.”

Taeyong can’t seem to pull his eyebrows apart, they’re so drawn together. “Get started on what, exactly?”

Dropping into his chair, Siwon says, “The article. Got that from a friend in the area. She says they’re starting up the baseball team again. Big news in that area after what happened, I guess.”

“Big news to a small town, but not really to our demographic,” he points out. “They won’t care.”

“And, see, that’s where you’re wrong.” He links his fingers together, propping his chin on them. “People love an underdog. They love an underdog that lost and is rising from the ashes even better. From what I heard, that town loved their team. Won them a bunch of trophies and Championships. We need something to pull at people’s heart strings.”

“And you think this will do that? I could just take a picture of a cat and post it on the blog,” he mutters.

Siwon narrows his eyes. “Weren’t you on a baseball team?”

Taeyong fights his face from contorting into something unpleasant. “Yeah.”

“At SM?”

The look on Siwon’s face says he’s won and Taeyong hates that. It doesn’t matter how many times he tries to argue, he never wins. All he does is nod his head and write the articles he’s been given. That being said—

“I already have that article you assigned me last week, remember? How am I supposed to finish that when you want me to drive five hours out of the city to absolute nowhere?”

“Pass it off to Jihoon. He’s done his last assignment. I need you on this.” He gestures to the fax. “You know the area, the school. You know the baseball system. It’s easier to get you to do it than find someone else. Don’t worry, we’ll pay for your hotel and your meals. Keep your receipts.”

Desperate, he steps forward to grip the edge of Siwon’s desk. “Please. I got out of that town and I really don’t want to go back. I can’t—Going back isn’t going to work.”

“It’s a town,” Siwon states. “It doesn’t have anything against you. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Besides, it’s just until they finish up the tournament. And, from what my sources tell me, they’re all practically newbies. Probably won’t even make it past their first game.”

“If they don’t, it’ll be a waste of everyone’s time because your story about the young, baseball underdogs will be a moot point.”

Waving a hand at him, he says, “Not at all. I’m sure you can spin it into something readable. You’re good at that.”

Taeyong’s had to get good at it. Most of the articles Siwon makes him write end up going nowhere and he has to make them interesting. It’s a struggle every day.

“There’s no one else who can do this? At all?”

Siwon picks up a folder and flips it open. “Nope. So, pack your bags, Lee. You’re going home.”

Taeyong’s never hated his boss so much in his life.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is a little later than I normally post on a Tuesday! I had an interview this morning and I just didn't have time to put this all together. And then I forgot it was Tuesday...oops haha But it's here!
> 
> Here in lies the first chapter of the Jaehyun/Taeyong mystery unfolding, which is kind of fun. We're going to see more and more from them as we go and their story will become a bit clearer as the chapters go by. It's a slow burn, so I'm not giving out things right away. Where's the fun in that? :P   
> We also get to see a bit more of Mark and his inner turmoil. Poor Mark. I swear he'll be okay. We just have to get there first. 
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

It’s right at the end of the day when Jaehyun shows up in Taeil’s office on Tuesday. Students are clearing out, heading home or to study group or to god knows where. Jaehyun really doesn’t care as long as his students end up going to the right place.

When he opens the door, Taeil is standing at his desk, sifting through folders. He’s always sifting through something, Jaehyun’s come to notice. He wonders just how much work Taeil gets dumped with daily because it seems like an awful lot.

Taeil finally looks up when Jaehyun reaches the edge of his desk. “Ah, Jaehyun. Practice today, right?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to check in before I head out,” he says.

“Thanks for doing that. I know it seems silly, but the school really likes to know who’s handling their kids.”

Jaehyun coughs a laugh. “How strange of them to be so secure like that.”

“Right?” Taeil asks, a smile pulling at his lips. “Actually, speaking of people wandering onto our property. I got a call yesterday. Do you know about the Seoul Mirror?”

“The blog?”

“That’s the one. They called and said they were interested in doing an article on the baseball team.”

Frowning, Jaehyun asks, “Why? What would they get out of that?”

“To be honest, I wondered that, too. It sounds like they want to capture the team’s growth after not having existed for a while. An underdog story, I think is what he said.” Taeil shrugs. “I don’t tend to ask a lot of questions. I just make sure it’s okay with the school board, you know?”

“But it’s a high school team,” Jaehyun says. “What on earth would they want to know about a high school baseball team?”

Sliding some folders into the drawer, Taeil says, “They said they knew about how the team was National Champion for several years, that it was the pride and joy of the town. They also said they knew about the loss, how it transferred to JY Prep and that the town cut off any ties to baseball and whatnot. I guess word got out that this was happening again.” When Jaehyun wrinkles his nose, he adds, “It’s a small town, Jaehyun. There isn’t a lot to be proud of here. And after everything, people are a bit wary about it happening again. But this blog wants to get a scoop, to see if the team can come back after so long and get that trophy.”

“So, you’re going to let some stranger hang around the kids for an article?”

“Actually, not totally a stranger, apparently,” says Taeil. “He used to go here, so he knows the place. And he used to be on the team. You might have actually known him, I think.”

Heart squeezing painfully, Jaehyun leans forward to grip the edge of the desk. “Who? What’s his name?”

“Lee—Oh—” Taeil’s eyes snap over Jaehyun’s shoulder. He smiles brightly, waving his hand as if to beckon someone into the room. Jaehyun’s so tense that he can’t make himself turn around just yet. “Hey, we were just talking about you. Jaehyun, meet Lee Taeyong. Taeyong, this is Jaehyun, the baseball coach.”

Several things happen all at once. The first thing being Jaehyun’s heart tumbling into his stomach. The second being that he finally finds a burst of energy, built up on disbelief, that allows him to spin around to stare at the new addition to the room. The last thing is his blood boiling, his ears ringing, and his throat going suddenly so dry that he can’t even swallow.

There, standing on the office threshold, is the one person Jaehyun was hoping to never see again in his life.

He hasn’t aged. At least, that’s what Jaehyun thinks. In fact, he looks exactly like he did in the last picture they took together. His face still a little pointed, a little angular, but his eyes round and dark. His hair isn’t brown anymore, but more of an auburn color that he’s sure lights up firetruck red in the sun. No, he hasn’t changed at all and that makes the whole thing so much worse.

“No,” he states, pushing himself off the desk, legs and hands shaky. “No, absolutely not.”

It gives him a little sense of comfort that Taeyong seems a bit surprised as well, a little startled. He’s been letting his eyes wander, taking Jaehyun in as if he’s more of a dream than a real person. As he if can’t believe they’re in the same room after all this time.

“Jaehyun?” Taeil questions, brows pulled together.

“No. I’m not letting him anywhere near the team,” he grits out.

Taeyong blinks, coming out of whatever trance he was in, and opens his mouth and—God, he even sounds the same. Not that Jaehyun expected him to sound different, but the fact that it sounds so familiar.

“Jae—”

“No,” he snaps, cutting Taeyong off. “No. No, I’m not doing this. You aren’t doing this. You can’t just come back here and—No. Taeil, I’m sorry, but I refuse to have him on that diamond.”

Slowly, Taeil rounds the desk. “Look, I, uh, don’t know what’s going on here, but he’s already gotten permission from the school. He can stay if he wants to.”

Jaehyun grits his teeth together, jaw tense. It’s infuriating. Infuriating because Taeyong looks good. He looks as if he’s never had a hard day in his life since he ruined everything; while Jaehyun’s been struggling to keep his head above water for five fucking years. And he has the gall to stand there and just—

“Fuck this,” he spits, marching toward the door and nearly elbowing Taeyong out of the way. Taeyong shifts before they can make contact.

He’s made it out the door when a hand curls around his wrist. “Jae, wait—”

Harshly, he wrenches his arm away and twists to glare at Taeyong. “You don’t get to call me that. You shouldn’t even be here. Why the fuck are you here?”

Casting a glance over his shoulder to where Taeil eyes them curiously, Taeyong sighs. He reaches out to close the door, leaving them in the empty hallway. Jaehyun wants to scream. Or throw up. Or run.

“The Seoul Mirror wants to do an article on the team,” Taeyong replies, not quite meeting Jaehyun’s eyes. Which is fine by him. He doesn’t want to look at Taeyong either. “They know I used to go here. That’s the only reason they sent me. I had no idea you were the coach. If I did—”

“If you did, what? You would have avoided me? Left me? Oh, wait, you already did that, didn’t you?” The laugh that bubbles out of him is nothing if not hysterical and lacking all humor. “I can’t believe this.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Taeyong insists, finally raising his eyes to meet Jaehyun’s. They’re round and dark and pleading. Jaehyun doesn’t think he gets to look like that. Like he’s the one who’s suffering. “I maybe would have at least tried to warn you somehow. Told them to tell you I was coming. I don’t know. I had no idea you were even still doing baseball after…”

Jaehyun’s heart twists violently in his chest. “After I completely ruined my chances at winning Championships and getting a scholarship?”

He won’t admit that it’s true. That after, he quit and fell down a deep, dark hole. That the only reason he’s doing this is because Jaemin begged him to. Taeyong doesn’t need to know how much he screwed up Jaehyun’s life. At least not yet. If he gives that information now, he’ll just look pathetic.

Stepping closer, he goes to jab his finger into Taeyong’s chest before realizing that he doesn’t want to touch him and instead just points as he says, “You don’t get to show up here after five years and wiggle yourself back into my life. I don’t fucking care why you’re here. I don’t want you anywhere near my boys.”

“I have a job, Jaehyun,” says Taeyong. “I can’t leave until I do it. This isn’t about you and it isn’t about me, or anything that happened in the past. I have an article to write and the school gave me permission. You can’t keep me away from that diamond.”

Curling his hands into fists, Jaehyun clenches his jaw and inhales sharply through his nose. “God, you just—”

He’s cut off by a voice calling his name and when he turns, Jaemin is coming to a halt, his eyes wide as they spot Taeyong.

“Taeyong,” he breathes.

“Jaemin,” greets Taeyong with a hesitant smile. “Wow, you’ve grown.”

The look of shock comes crashing down and Jaemin crosses his arms, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “That’s what five years does to a person.”

Before Taeyong—or even Jaemin—can say anything more, Jaehyun grabs Jaemin’s arm and starts tugging him down the hall.

“Wait, Jaehyun,” Taeyong calls.

Stopping to shoot a glare over his shoulder, he shouts, “I don’t care why you’re here. You can do your article, or whatever the fuck you want to do, but don’t talk to me. In fact, stay the fuck away from me.”

On his way down the hall, Jaemin tugs free. He jogs to keep up with Jaehyun’s pace. “Are you okay?”

He throws open the doors at the end, stomping outside. His mind is reeling, his heart pounding. Everything feels numb, yet aches to the core. He can feel his hands shake as he shoves them into his pockets and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Just a moment. Because that’s all he can allow himself before his mind reminds him of bright smiles, boisterous laughter, caressing hands and—

_“I’m sorry, Jae.”_

He stutters to a stop, Jaemin nearly crashing into him.

“Jae? Are you all right?”

When he rubs at his eyes, he does it a little too hard. He sees stars for a moment, but at least it’s better than anything else his mind wants to show him. With a sigh, he nods.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He starts off again. “Come on. We have practice to get to.”

“But what about—”

“Later, Jaemin.”

The grass brushes against his shoes as he crosses the field. With a sinking feeling, he knows that he has no choice. Taeyong is going to stick around for his article, which means Jaehyun will have no choice but to see him at practices, maybe even at games. For years, he had lived with the idea that he would never see Taeyong ever again and, yet, here they are.

Fate, it seems, has a sick sense of humor and Jaehyun, unfortunately, is at the butt of all the jokes.

*

“Is Jaehyun all right?” Jeno asks, leaning over Mark to direct it to Jaemin.

The three of them have been leaning against the wall of the dugout for the last fifteen minutes while Jaehyun bunts balls at them. Instead of doing a line up with all of them, Jaehyun decided it was going to be a one-on-one effort. Twenty bunts for one person without a lot of room to react. Jeno, Jaemin, and Mark have already gone through their hell. YangYang was up next. Surprisingly—or not surprisingly, depending on how you looked at it—he’s very agile. Mark thinks it has something to do with his energy and his uncanny ability to bounce back.

While the practice itself isn’t anything out of the ordinary, it’s kind of obvious that Jaehyun just isn’t in the mood. He’s quick and to the point and his bunts…Well, they’re a little harder than they probably should be. Poor Jeno barely caught any at all. That is to say, he caught one. Just one.

“Yeah, he seems out of it,” Mark agrees.

Beside him, Jaemin chews on the tip of his thumb, gaze glued to Jaehyun. “Taeyong showed up.”

“What?” Jeno blurts, so loud in Mark’s ear that he flinches. “Sorry, sorry. What do you mean Taeyong showed up? When?”

Leaning back against the wall, Jaemin says, “I saw him in the hall with Jaehyun before practice. Just out of nowhere.”

Mark frowns. “Wait, who’s Taeyong?”

“I’m surprised you don’t know who that is,” Jaemin says with a raised brow. “Taeyong? Lee Taeyong? Used to be one of the Pitchers of SM High? Ringing any bells?”

“Wait,” he glances at Jaehyun with his mouth popped open, “Lee Taeyong, the one Jaehyun was Battery with for his first two years of high school?”

“That’s the one.”

He shoots up to spin on Jaemin. “Dude! He’s here? In the school?”

“He was. I don’t know where he is now. I don’t even know if he’s coming back. All I know is that they were fighting when I saw them and Jaehyun told him to stay away. Granted, I don’t blame him.”

“Why?”

Jaemin and Jeno exchange glances. That stupidly annoying glance that only they can do because they can somehow communicate without words. Sometimes, Mark feels a little left out.

“I guess you wouldn’t know,” Jaemin starts off slowly. “Um, they were really…close. Taeyong actually got Jaehyun on the team in the first place. But you know how Jaehyun was off the day of the Championships?” Mark nods. “Yeah, well, they had a fight, I guess you could say. Taeyong basically cut Jaehyun off and he’s never really been the same since then. So, yeah, I don’t blame him for getting angry about him randomly showing up.”

When Mark turns around, he sees YangYang giving way to Renjun. The rest of the team is busy collecting all the balls that were never caught.

“Poor Jaehyun,” Jeno mutters.

“He won’t talk about it. He said ‘later’, but I know he’ll try to push it off for as long as he can because that’s what he does,” says Jaemin with a shrug. “Keeps it all to himself and wallows in it.”

Jeno winces when Jaehyun bunts a ball a little too hard and Renjun nearly crashes into the ground to catch it. “And takes it out on the team.”

“Give him a couple days and it’ll be fine,” Jaemin says, though he doesn’t sound all that convinced.

“I hope so. We can do with less issues, right now. I mean, we already have enough pent-up tension and anger.”

Mark frowns. “From who?”

Both Jeno and Jaemin raise a brow at him.

Jaemin squints. “From you, you numbskull. And from Ace over there.” He juts his chin to where Renjun joins the others in collecting the balls and Donghyuck steps up.

“We aren’t that bad,” he says, wincing slightly. “Are we?”

“God, it’s like we can’t escape it.”

Jeno purses his lips in thought. “Granted, you guys have been pretty decent since we got back.”

“Yeah, why is that? I was totally expecting at least one fight a practice, or a day, whatever works,” says Jaemin. “Did something happen while you were both on time out this weekend?”

“First of all, it wasn’t a time out,” Mark says, shifting his weight because he can’t figure out how to stand comfortably anymore. “Second of all, we don’t fight that—”

“Yeah, you do,” interrupts Jeno. “A lot. So much.”

“My grandparents fight less then you two do,” Jaemin puts in. “And they’ve never gotten along.”

Mark glances over to where Donghyuck is lunging for all of Jaehyun’s hits. He catches one and tosses it away only to jump to the other side to snatch another ball from the air. It’s annoying how good he is at it. Even Mark stumbled when he was doing it.

“It’s just,” he throws up his hands, “he’s so annoying. One minute he’s taunting me, the next he’s fighting me, and now he’s avoiding me. He calls me the asshole when he’s the one that started it all! And what? He joins the team—despite telling me constantly not to ask him and that he _doesn’t_ want to play—only because he found out we’d be going up against JY Prep if we made it to Nationals. Like, sure, I get that he has some beef with his old school—”

“Wait, Donghyuck went to JY Prep?” asks Jeno.

“—but, _fuck_ ,” Mark barrels on without pause, “he’s so back and forth. I get it! You’re a super special snowflake and you’re a fucking fabulous baseball player with fucking fabulous skills.” Donghyuck catches another ball, which just makes his blood boil. “And he’s got literally everything going for him. ‘Look at me, I’m Donghyuck with my genius brain and amazing skills and perfect face.’ Well, you know what? I would like to punch him in his perfect face, especially now that he’s decided that _I’m_ the bad guy! As if him being here, playing on _this_ team, is all my fucking fault. Well, it isn’t! He joined all on his own and he’s snapping at me for no fucking reason!”

He doesn’t realize he’s running out of breath until he’s done and his lungs burn and he’s gasping for air. Donghyuck ends his run and moves out of the way. The sun catches against his hair, the gold shining. Even his skin glows and Mark tears his eyes away, gritting his teeth. Everything about Donghyuck makes his body tense and uncomfortable.

“Wow,” Jaemin breathes. “There’s so much to unpack there. I don’t even know where to start.”

Placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder, Jeno asks, “Do you feel better?”

Exhaling slowly, he forces his body to relax. Then he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, actually I do.”

“Good,” Jaemin says, “because I have questions. Like, Donghyuck used to go to JY Prep? How did you not know that? I thought you followed the tournaments.”

“The scores, not the players,” he reminds him. “I haven’t been to the games in years. I had no idea Donghyuck was on the team. But, apparently, something happened and he transferred. He wouldn’t tell me what.”

“And you found this out when?”

“While we were cleaning the baseballs. That’s around the time he called me an asshole and told me that he couldn’t stand me, he didn’t trust me, and that he would be Battery with me, but not enjoy it.”

Jeno furrows his brow. “You two are really off to a great start.” Mark shoots him a look because, yes, he knows. “Should we be worried, though? If something happened with his old team, is it smart to have him get close to them again?”

“Well, we don’t know what happened. It could have been anything,” Jaemin says. “Besides, we don’t even know if we’ll make it past our first game.”

For a moment, Mark considers telling them that Donghyuck had mentioned that something happened with his coach and his team was apparently full of jerks, but stops himself. It isn’t his story to tell, no matter how little of information he has.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep an eye out then,” Jeno says.

“But, um, besides all that, can we get back to Donghyuck having a ‘perfect face’?” questions Jaemin, sliding his eyes to Mark with a quirked eyebrow and a grin stretching across his lips. “A perfect face, huh? Do you think he’s cute? Is that what this is? Some weird, awkward hate-flirting?”

Mark hates the way his ears go hot almost instantly. “It’s not—I didn’t mean—Stop looking at me like that.” He doesn’t mean it to come out as snappy as it does. It’s harsh and quick and his defenses are rising so high that he crosses his arms and tries to shrink in on himself.

Shifting so that he could face Mark directly, crowding into his space, Jaemin’s smile drops. “Something’s up.”

His throat is dry when he says, “Nothing is up.”

“You’re doing that thing where you try to make yourself small,” he says, “as if you’re trying to make it seem like you didn’t say anything.”

It takes everything in him to unfurl his arms and stand up straight. “I am not.”

“You’ve been hiding something from me. The both of you. And I’ve been really good as to not meddle since you both hate that, but seriously?”

As he glances over to Jeno, who is watching him with a carefully closed off expression, the guilt bubbles in his stomach. The only reason he didn’t tell Jaemin was because he wanted to pretend like it never happened. Telling Jeno was literally only because he had to tell _someone_ and Jeno was the last person who would make a big deal out of it. After that, he just sort of wanted to forget about it.

Except, his mind won’t let him. And it isn’t even that it keeps reminding him about what happened, it just keeps playing tricks on him with everyone else. Well, not everyone. Just some people. Particularly sullen, golden boys. But Mark knows it’s nothing. It has to be nothing.

“Mark?”

For once, Jaemin doesn’t look like he’s making a joke or teasing. He looks serious, his gaze steady and his brows angled.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, crossing his arms again. It makes him feel better.

Jeno inches closer and whispers, “Maybe you should just tell him.”

“Jeno—”

“Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” Jaemin says. “But don’t pretend that everything is fine because I know it’s not. We’re best friends. You can’t hide that from me.”

Mark glues his attention on the dirt beneath his sneakers because that’s easier than looking at Jaemin and Jeno. The two people he’s supposed to trust the most in this world and he can’t even talk to them about his issues?

When Jeno came out, it was nice. He was scared, but he trusted them. He opened up about it and Jaemin hugged him and that was that. Mark felt almost relieved for Jeno because, while it had to have been hard, it was nice to know that Jeno thought of them as good enough friends to support it.

And Mark isn’t coming out. That’s not what he’s saying. It’s totally different, but why can’t he trust them like Jeno trusted them? What makes it so much harder to do?

“I…” He swallows thickly. “I don’t—I don’t like Donghyuck, okay?”

Jaemin nods. “Okay.”

“But I have,” he rolls his eyes up to the sky, trying to focus in on the thud of each ball against Jaehyun’s bat and the shuffle of feet against the grass as they try to catch it, “had a thought—just one—a little while ago and it sort of freaked me out.”

“A thought? What kind of thought?”

Mark sneaks a glance at Jeno. He nods, encouragingly, before reaching out to take the edge of Mark’s shirt. With his arms crossed, he can’t grab at his hands, but it’s still comforting.

“A thought about,” his stomach twists, “kissing a boy.” Jaemin blinks and for some reason it startles Mark so badly that he blurts out, “But it was just a fleeting moment. It wasn’t anything to talk about or share. Well, I shared it with Jeno and he said he wouldn’t bring it up again and it was just a thought, right? So, you know, I tried to just put it out of my mind. And I’m fine. I’m not gay, so don’t think that. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay. Of course, there’s not! I totally support you and Jeno. Not that you guys are gay. You’re bi or pan or whatever and that’s totally cool, but I’m not—”

“Mark!”

His mouth clamps shut.

Jaemin studies his face for a moment. Then, he forces Mark to uncurl his arms so he can grasp his hands. A small smile works his way to his lips as he says, “You’re fine. Everything is fine. Just breathe.”

The breath he inhales is shaky and deep and it stretches his lungs to the max before he finally lets it go. Jeno’s hand moves to his back, warmth seeping in.

“You said it was just one thought?” asks Jaemin.

Mark starts to nod, but then stops himself. Well, it had been one thought. Once only about a month ago. Except, now he’s not so sure. Everything had sort of clicked back to normal afterward—after his slight moment of panic that required him to call up Jeno in a very cramped bathroom—and he thought he was safe. However, the last couple of weeks haven’t been easy. Hell, this past weekend, with the spike of his anxiety after simply thinking about kissing a boy during spin the bottle and having Donghyuck so close to him…Now, he isn’t so sure and that’s terrifying.

He’s always known who he is. It’s never been difficult. He’s Mark. Smart, capable, always willing to do whatever it took to make people happy and to succeed in his own right. He’s always been comfortable where he is, with who he is, who he’s going to be. And, sure, he hasn’t ever put a lot of thought into dating because he’s never been particularly attracted to anyone—not that there aren’t attractive people around him, they just don’t tend to do much for him—but he always thought he’d end up with a nice girl.

And while there’s nothing wrong with ending up with a nice guy, Mark’s just never really thought that was him. But he’s also never really liked anyone or been attracted to anyone and maybe that’s why the whole thing makes him panic so much more than it should. He’s just not used to feeling this feeling. Whatever it is.

So, he ends up admitting, “It had been one thought. Now, it’s sort of a mess.”

“Look, I’m not going to put you in a box because I would hate it if someone forced that on me before I understood anything. But just know that thinking about kissing a boy isn’t the end of the world.” He squeezes Mark’s hands a little tighter. “There isn’t anything wrong with you and you don’t need a label. You just be you. If you want to kiss a girl, kiss a girl. If you want to kiss a boy, kiss a boy. Just don’t let it be Donghyuck.”

The line elicits a startled laugh from Mark. “Trust me. I’d sooner punch him than kiss him.”

Jaemin grins. “Try not to let it bother you. And if it does, then you can talk to Jeno and I. We’ve both been through things like this. You aren’t alone, okay?”

“And we would never leave you alone,” Jeno adds. “You’ve got us for life.”

“This is very true,” agrees Jaemin. “We aren’t going anywhere. We’ve made a blood pact.”

Mark tilts his head. “I don’t remember making a blood pact.”

“No? Oh. Jeno, write that down. We’re making a blood pact.”

Mark shakes his head. “No, we are not making a blood pact!”

“Who’s making a blood pact?” YangYang asks as he jogs over to grab his water bottle. The rest of the team follow behind.

“No one is,” Mark says before Jaemin can jump in. “All done?”

“For now. Jaehyun wants us back out there in ten so we can go over game plays again,” says Lucas. His nose is red from the sun. “Um, is there a reason you’re holding hands?”

At that, Mark rips his hands from Jaemin and crosses his arms. “No. Um, okay. Break. Right.”

Lucas seems a bit suspicious, but he doesn’t say anything. All he does is nod before reaching out to pick up his water bottle. Which is fine with Mark because he doesn’t want to deal with questions, right now.

Out in the field, Jaehyun ties up the bag of baseballs. Inside the dugout, YangYang, Jisung, and Chenle hide in the shade. Chenle’s made himself comfortable, stretched out across the bench with his head in Jisung’s lap and messaging his leg at an awkward angle. When Lucas moves over to talk to Renjun, Mark notices that it’s the first time Renjun doesn’t look all that nervous. His cheeks still go pink, but he makes eye contact with utmost confidence.

Beside Renjun, Donghyuck squats down to dig through his bag. Ever since their talk, Donghyuck’s been avoiding Mark. Or, well, maybe just ignoring. Although, he still makes snide comments as if Mark isn’t there and glares at him whenever he feels particularly irked. It’s not exactly the civility Mark was looking for, but at least they haven’t blown up on each other since then. Still, it’s awkward and Mark’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, for one of them—probably Donghyuck—to snap.

As Donghyuck raises his hand to swipe his fringe back, wiping at the sweat across his forehead, he glances up and catches Mark’s gaze. He knows he should look away. He’s staring, unnecessarily. But this is the first time in days that Donghyuck has fully looked at him and Mark isn’t sure how to feel about it. All he knows is that he can’t look away.

It doesn’t last long, however, because Donghyuck frowns, eyes narrowing into a glare, and twists away to grab his water bottle.

Well, then.

“Hey, anyone up to get food after this?” Chenle asks, sitting up from Jisung’s lap. “We can go to that ice cream parlor down the street.”

“Your treat?” inquires YangYang. 

“You can’t let Chenle pay for your ice cream,” Lucas says. “You’re older.”

“Chenle is richer.”

“Chenle is _richer_? How much richer?”

Shrugging, Chenle says, “I get by.”

“He has a mansion and his family owns multiple Teslas,” YangYang cuts in.

Lucas’ jaw drops. “Dude, what the fuck? That’s insane! Ice cream on Chenle.”

“Thanks, YangYang,” Chenle says.

“You’re so welcome. I like chocolate, for the record. Three scoops.”

“As if you need more sugar,” Renjun comments and YangYang rolls his eyes.

“So, um, ice cream?” asks Chenle.

Everyone nods. Mark half expects Donghyuck to not say yes, but Renjun nudges him and they share a look that kind of reminds him of the one Jaemin and Jeno can do—stupid best friend telepathy—and then he shrugs.

Great, he thinks. More time to be awkward with Donghyuck. Just what he wants.

*

At the end of the day, they all meet at the front gate and head down together. Mark keeps to the back because it’s the farthest away from Donghyuck, who walks up ahead chatting with YangYang. At one point he laughs and Mark nearly trips over his own feet because, holy fuck, Lee Donghyuck can laugh? Of course, Jaemin shoots him a curious sort of expression and he rights himself to keep walking as if he didn’t just do that.

It’s the first time they’ve all hung out with each other, off campus and not during school hours. It feels kind of nice. Like they’re friends. Well, they are friends. Kind of. To a certain degree. And the thing is, Mark knows a lot of people, but he doesn’t have many people he considers friends. Jaemin and Jeno, obviously. Lucas, as well. But he’s pretty sure that’s where his list stops. Those are the only people who really know him.

Now, he’s got a whole team of people, who have stuck by him and his idea and, yeah, Mark wouldn’t mind knowing these people more or having them know him. He could see himself hanging out with them quite often.

YangYang is funny and friendly. Chenle, too. Together, they’re a bit of a riot and crazily entertaining once they get started. As quiet as he is, Jisung is comfortable to be around and all that time teaching him some skills has made Mark realize that he likes the kid. Young, a good listener. He’s quickly becoming the little brother Mark never had. Even Renjun is interesting to be around. Mark hasn’t spent a lot of time with him, but he seems to be the only truly sane one and Lucas likes him, so that’s a good sign.

Then again, Lucas likes pretty much everyone, so maybe Mark shouldn’t put much stock into that.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Jaemin questions as he peels himself from Jeno’s side to slow down and match Mark’s stride.

“Depends on what it is.”

“Who was it?”

Mark frowns. “What do you mean?”

Dropping his voice lower, Jaemin asks, “The boy you thought about kissing. Who was it?”

He wonders if his heart will stop beating with how quickly the blood rushes to his ears in embarrassment. It takes everything in his power not to turn around and walk away. Jaemin must notice his flinch to run because he hooks an arm though Mark’s and tugs him closer. No escape.

“You don’t really have to tell me,” Jaemin whispers. “But maybe it will help?”

“You also just want to know,” he manages, his voice sounding as if he’s speaking underwater.

“That, too.”

Chewing on his lower lip, Mark glances at the group. They’re several feet ahead now, barely paying attention to the way he and Jaemin drop further behind. YangYang’s got his phone out, showing it to Chenle, who throws his head back and laughs. Donghyuck snatches it from his hand to take a look, a smile pulling at his lips. Then, Lucas, swinging an arm around Renjun’s shoulders, moves in closer to see, as well. Jisung and Jeno are the only ones watching in amusement, but not trying to actively join the cluster that forms on the sidewalk.

“Was it one of our friends? Was it me?”

“No!”

His shout is so loud that the whole team turn to look at him. He ducks his head as Jaemin laughs and waves them off. “Nothing to see here. We’re cool. Go back to your funny pet videos.”

“It’s a piece of bread falling over, actually,” YangYang says. He wiggles his phone. “Want to see?”

Despite how odd that is, Mark sort of wants to, but Jaemin grips his arm harder and shakes his head. “Show us when we get there.” Then, he says to Mark, “Also, rude.”

“Not that you aren’t attractive,” he starts, “because you are. You’re very attractive. I’m just not into you like that? You’re like my little brother and that’s so weird. I’m weirding myself out now.”

“Okay, fair enough. You aren’t really my type either. But if it wasn’t me, who was it?”

“Wow, way to phrase that question—”

“Just answer the question.”

Sighing, he ruffles his hair with the hand currently not being restrained and mutters, “Lucas, okay? It was Lucas.”

Jaemin gasps. “Wait, are you serious? You like Lucas?”

“No!” This time, he manages not to attract the attention of everyone, though it’s still fairly loud. He hisses, “I don’t like Lucas. It was just a thing. I’m not even really that attracted to him. Not that he’s not attractive, but—”

“Going in circles,” Jaemin interrupts. Thankfully. “Okay, wait, if you aren’t attracted to him and you don’t like him, then why did you want to kiss him?”

“I don’t know,” he whines. “It was a heat of the moment kind of thing?” When Jaemin lifts an eyebrow for more information, he elaborates, “About a week before school started, we met up at his place. His parents were out and he had snuck some of his dad’s soju. We decided to have a bit of fun.”

“Mark, I didn’t know you had that in you. Underaged drinking?”

He rolls his eyes. “Once. Just once. And Lucas has gotten really good at the puppy-dog eyes. You know I’m terrible at saying no to them.” Jaemin nods. “Anyway, we were both tipsy and laughing and then, I don’t know, I looked at him and—It was just a fleeting thought, but it freaked me out.”

“Wow, tipsy you really threw you a curveball.” He tilts his head in thought. “That wasn’t meant to be a baseball pun, but I’ll take it.”

“It was a good one.”

“Yeah, it was. Anyway, listen, it’s okay. I think everyone has thought about kissing Lucas at least once. So, don’t worry so much. Unless you’re, like, still thinking about kissing him. Are you?”

Mark shakes his head so hard that his brain rattles. “No. Absolutely not. Like I said, I don’t like him like that. I think it was just the alcohol and the moment.”

“And teenaged boy hormones.”

“Yeah, probably.” Then again, Mark’s never really struggled all that much with hormones. He’s never been like his schoolmates, who gossip about making out in the dark corners of the school or hooking up on weekends. Mark’s never really felt that way about anyone. Still, it’s an option and an excuse that he’s willing to stick with. “Just don’t tell him. It was already weird enough that I bolted and spent half an hour in the bathroom freaking out to Jeno over the phone. Granted, by the time I came back Lucas was passed out on the couch and I doubt he remembers much of anything.”

“My lips are sealed,” Jaemin promises. “Just don’t be afraid to come talk to me or Jeno if something happens, all right? Or if someone else sparks an interest in any kind of way.”

“I think I’m probably safe.”

“If you say so.”

They end up at the ice cream parlor minutes after and Mark would say he’s feeling quite relieved to get all that off his chest if he weren’t sitting across from Donghyuck at the end of the table. He’s not sure how they got there, but it happened and Mark can’t seem to get anyone to switch with him, no matter how much he subtly tries to poke at Jaemin.

Luckily, Donghyuck isn’t paying much attention to him. He’s got his phone out on the table, scrolling through god knows what, and only tuning into the conversation if someone mentions his name. Mark isn’t sure what’s worse: the lack of taunting or the outward ignoring. Both settle strangely in his gut, even though he should be happy about it.

All they’ve ever done is fight and now he doesn’t need to worry about it. Except, he’s never been good with people disliking him or avoiding him. A small part—okay, it’s a big part—of him always wants to try and fix it. And while he knows fixing things with Donghyuck is kind of fruitless, he still wants to.

Plus, it’s just annoying. He’s pretty sure it’s annoying just because it’s Donghyuck, and Mark’s never met anyone who could crawl under his skin like Donghyuck does.

Donghyuck, who just sits there as if Mark isn’t right across from him, poking at his phone and moving the straw of his milkshake around with his lower lip before closing his mouth around it. Shifting on his seat, Mark flicks his gaze away, only to get distracted by the silver piercing that glitters on Donghyuck’s eyebrow. The lights of the shop make all his piercings shine a little too brightly. Mark finds himself counting them again.

Seven. There’s still seven and they’re so silver against the tan of his skin.

“What?”

His eyes snap to meet Donghyuck’s. The straw is poking at his lower lip, his fingers hovering over the screen of his phone. Slowly, the eyebrow with the piercing in it raises. Mark knows the others are starting to notice that they’re acknowledging each other. Still, he keeps his attention on Donghyuck.

“What what?” he asks, a little nervously. He really needs to get his staring under control. This is so not like him.

“You’re staring,” states Donghyuck as he straightens up. “What do you want? Because you’re being fucking creepy—”

“Seven,” he blurts.

Donghyuck pauses. “What?”

The strength of Donghyuck’s gaze is heavy and Mark shifts again on his chair. They’re really uncomfortable chairs. “Just, um,” he vaguely gestures at Donghyuck face, “seven—I mean, seven piercings.”

Renjun coughs into his first. Although, Mark’s pretty sure it’s a horrible disguise for a snicker. Across the table, Donghyuck studies him, blinks, and then smirks, measured and calculating. A shiver shoots up Mark’s spine.

“Eight,” he says.

Mark does a quick tally. “I count seven.”

“Oh, trust me,” he says, picking up his milkshake to wrap his lips around the straw, “there’s eight. Renjun can vouch for me.”

“It’s true. There’s eight,” Renjun says with a nod.

“Why, Prez? Got a problem with them?”

It’s almost infuriating how smug he sounds. Mark grips the bowl where his ice cream is currently melting, the cold sticking to his skin. “No problem, at all.”

“Good.”

Training his eyes on the table, he murmurs. “Good.”

From down the table, Chenle pipes up with, “Thank god you guys aren’t doing that awkward ignoring thing anymore because we kind of need you two to communicate if we’re going to have a chance at our first game in, like, a week.”

“We’re screwed, aren’t we?” YangYang asks.

“I wouldn’t say that,” says Mark. “We’ll be fine.”

YangYang stabs at his ice cream. “Fine won’t help us win. We have a week to get up to speed and even then, I’m not sure how we’ll do. Doesn’t help that our own team struggles to get along.” Pointedly, he looks from Mark to Donghyuck.

“I can hold myself together during a game,” Donghyuck tells him. It sounds convincing. As if it’s the truth. Mark isn’t sure. “Doesn’t matter how many teammates I don’t like, or who don’t like me, I can still play.”

“You say that as if you’ve done it before,” Mark says, earning a glare.

“All that’s fine and good if it’s true,” puts in Jaemin before either Mark or Donghyuck can start. “It would help if you two could put aside whatever issues you have.”

Chenle says, “It would also help if our coach wasn’t in such a bad mood. What was up with him today?”

“We all have bad days,” Jaemin says, quietly. “He’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

A silence buzzes over the table. Mark can feel the nervousness drape around his shoulders. Honestly, he knows how they’re feeling. They aren’t exactly at the peak of their abilities. So many of the schools that enter the tournament have been practicing for years, have done games for years, and usually start their season before school even begins. They’re already behind and they all know it.

Still, as he looks around the table, he can’t help but feel like they might have a chance. They have a variety of skills. And, sure, they aren’t totally polished, but they at least still have a chance.

“We can do this,” he says. Eight sets of eyes fall on him, most of them filled with skepticism. “Really, we can. I know we can. Sure, we aren’t the greatest, but we have our determination.” He spots YangYang and Chenle sharing a look. “Okay, listen. We aren’t the only team that’s struggling. Yeah, so we’re behind, but we’ve already grown so much since we started. We just need to pick up our confidence and stick it out.”

“Mark’s right,” Lucas says, “Before we started, Jeno couldn’t catch a ball and YangYang and I could barely hit a pitch.”

“We knew going into this the tournament was going to be tough,” adds Jaemin.

Nodding, Mark says, “Exactly. But, you know, despite our faults, we have a solid team and I really think we have a chance.”

“Do we even know who we’re up against?” asks Chenle.

“No, we won’t know until we arrive when they do the raffle. It’s okay, though! Because we’re going to keep practicing our asses off and we’re going to prove to this town that we aren’t something to be laughed at. Right?”

They all nod.

“Wow, Prez. You’re such an inspirational speaker,” says Donghyuck and Mark isn’t sure if he’s being sarcastic or if he’s impressed. He’s prone to lean toward the former.

Mark faces him, locking gazes. “We have a little over a week to get things figured out. We’ve already established that we don’t get along, but I’m holding out hope that you can play a game without bringing in our issues.”

Shrugging, Donghyuck says, “Don’t have much of a choice, do we?”

That’s about all the confirmation he’s going to get, so Mark simply nods and looks back at everyone else. “I promise that I’m going to do everything in my power to get us through our first game, but I can’t do it alone. Who’s with me?”

“Well, we’ve already made claims that we’re going to crush JY Prep, so we better make it through our first game,” Jaemin says and everyone rumbles in agreement.

He knows that pretty speeches won’t do much. Like Jaemin said, they’ve already decided they want to beat JY Prep. However, even then, Mark understands how easy it is to fall back in nervousness, to try and take back their original gumption toward the whole thing.

No, what they need is to buckle down and ignore everything else. They can only do what they can do. And Mark knows they can win. They just need a chance to prove it.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!  
> I'm sorry this chapter is so short. Unfortunately, so is the next one, but it didn't make sense to combine them....so here we are.   
> Lucky for you, chapter seventeen is a monster and probably eighteen, as well. Mostly because that's their first game.   
> Again...sorry for the length. If I could make them all ridiculously long for you guys, I would :(
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

His fist hits the sandbag once. Twice. Three, four—

The point of coming to Johnny’s gym was to try and ease out some of the tension that has somehow found home inside all of his muscles and joints since yesterday. What good that’s doing. It’s like every punch fuels his annoyance.

Taeyong’s back.

Why is Taeyong back?

And he works at a blog site? Okay, well, that isn’t actually that surprising. He had always loved writing. Songs, stories. Anything really. Plus, when he left for university in Seoul, journalism was his major. So, yeah, Jaehyun isn’t all that surprised about that. But he _is_ surprised that, out of all the magazines, newspapers, and blogs, it’s Taeyong’s that decided to feature SM High’s baseball team.

Which is another strange point all together. They’re a high school baseball team. What did a relatively large blog want with them?

Regardless, Jaehyun isn’t happy.

He’d spent nearly four years inside Seoul, at one of their universities, and never ran into Taeyong once. It’s a big region. Now, he’s finally escaped, finally found something that was actually making him happy, and life decided to say ‘Fuck you’ and hand him Lee Taeyong.

Something is definitely out to get him.

It’s unfair. It’s infuriating. It’s—

“You’ve completely lost your form,” Johnny says as he walks around Jaehyun to hold the sandbag. “Something up?”

“Life sucks,” he grunts, punching at the bag. His knuckles sting.

Johnny snorts. “Just tuned into the program, huh? What caused this revelation?”

As much as he’s learned to like Johnny, Jaehyun’s never openly explained his life and what he went through and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to do it, right now. Not after what happened. He’s still processing it.

Instead, he points to the ring and asks, “Box with me?”

“Grab the gloves. I’ll get the focus mitts.”

If there’s one thing he’s lucky about, it’s the fact that Johnny knows when to stop asking questions. He picks up on Jaehyun’s need to move on and goes with it. They collect what they need and move into the ring.

There aren’t many people in the gym at one o’clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday, which is fine by Jaehyun. Yuta had barely looked up from his phone when Jaehyun entered the place; just lifted a hand in a half-assed wave and continued to play Candy Crush. With not many visitors, there’s not much for him to do.

Johnny holds up the mitts and calls out the shots. His voice is like background noise to Jaehyun’s thoughts. Each hit is hard and solid as he tries to punch them all out. For once, he would love for things to go his way, to look up. He’s so tried of life pulling the rug out from under him and then laughing when he falls.

“Jaehyun, slow down,” says Johnny as he steps to the side slightly. Jaehyun follows him. “Keep focused. You’re going elsewhere. Focus on what you’re doing.”

Except it’s so much harder than it seems because he doesn’t want to focus. He wants to get lost in it, to lose himself. He wants to stop thinking and remembering and just…stop.

He goes to throw another punch, but Johnny is too quick. Mitts still on, he uses his wrists to trap Jaehyun’s hand and tug him off balance. He nearly tumbles into Johnny before catching himself, ungracefully.

Panting, he shoots Johnny a glare. “What?”

“You weren’t listening. I’ll help you box, but I’m not going to let you use it to hurt yourself, got it? Lose the gloves. You’re done for today.”

“Wh—Johnny, I’m fine,” he insists as Johnny takes off the focus mitts and moves toward the ropes of the ring. “Come on. Just let me get my frustration out.”

“You’re allowed to get your frustration out,” says Johnny. “But beating your knuckles during a practice is very different from an actual match.”

Jaehyun goes to say something, to argue back, but something red catches his attention. The moment he spots Taeyong hovering by the door, his body tenses up. He’s leaning against the wall, bookbag swung over his shoulder and his arms crossed.

No, he thinks. Fucking no.

“What the hell do you want?” he snaps, marching over to the ropes.

Johnny, who’s made his way to the floor, twists around to look. “Oh, hi there. You two know each other?”

Straightening up, Taeyong shoves his hands into his pockets and nods. “Yeah, we do.”

“Oh?” Johnny glances up at Jaehyun with a raised brow.

He grits his teeth. “He’s my ex.”

Even from across the room, he can see the way Taeyong’s nose twitches, a suppressed flinch. In a small town, announcing something like that is always worrying. It’s always unclear how someone will react. Sometimes it’s just best not to mention it at all. And, over the years, Jaehyun’s gone through the ups and downs of people’s reactions to his sexuality whenever they’ve found out. To be honest, he couldn’t care less if people hated him for it. If they hated him, he didn’t need them. 

Still, he knows Johnny’s more open than the townsfolk. From what he’s gathered, Johnny’s rather fluid in who he’s dated in the past. He knows there’s no judgement there, at least.

“Oh,” Johnny says. “Nice to meet you?”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Taeyong replies, albeit a little hesitantly.

Slipping out from under the ropes, Jaehyun exits the ring. He rips off the gloves, glaring. “Are you stalking me? How did you even find me?”

“I’m not stalking you,” Taeyong says. “I just needed to talk to you before I start attending practices. I don’t want to be on bad terms in front of your team while they’re trying to get ready for the tournament.”

“Then don’t be there,” he suggests. He crosses the room to his bag and tosses the gloves inside before facing Taeyong. “If you’re looking to apologize and magically make this better, then you’re delusional.”

Taeyong’s eyes narrow. “I’m not expecting you to forgive me. I’m just looking to not start fighting in front of people.” He glances at Johnny. He’s still over by the ring, pretending like he isn’t listening in. “And to answer your other question: it wasn’t too difficult to find you. Whenever you’re upset you work out. Usually at your house, but you weren’t there, so I figured you’d be at a gym. There are only two in town and the other one you said you would never step into even if you were running from brain-eating zombies and it was the last place to hide.”

It’s annoying that Taeyong remembers that from so long ago. They had been sitting at the cafeteria at the time and Jaehyun was explaining why he worked out at home and never at a gym. Especially their town’s gym. It was old and smelled weird. He doubts it’s any different these days.

“Your journalism skills are terrifying,” he grumbles.

“Jaehyun, I have a job to do. I don’t want to be here and you don’t want me here, but I am. I can’t just up and leave without working,” Taeyong says. “I just need to watch and take notes. Maybe talk to the team. You’ll hardly know I’m there.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

Inhaling deeply, Taeyong glances around. Then, he steps closer. Jaehyun would back away if it didn’t mean tripping over his bag. They aren’t that close, just a few feet away, but it’s overwhelming after years of not talking to or seeing each other. It’s hard to believe that Taeyong’s really there in front of him.

“I understand that you’re mad at me. You have all the right in the world to be,” he says, quietly.

“You’re fucking right I do. Do you even realize what you did? You took one of the greatest moments in my life and tore it into pieces. In the middle of the fucking game—”

“I forgot,” he says, putting his hands out in a pleading motion. “I didn’t realize the date and I was having a rough time and—Fuck, Jaehyun, you picked up the call!”

“You know I always pick up your calls!” he shouts. “Fucking hell, you _know_ that! I just…” He tips his head back, trying to collect himself. “You know what, I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to even go there with you. It’s over and you’re an asshole and if you have to do your fucking article than you can do it. But you stay the hell away from me. Understood?”

For a moment, Taeyong simply stares at him. He rolls out his shoulders and tips his chin up, as if trying to gather all his strength, to keep himself from fighting back. Jaehyun knows, that if this were any other moment, if they were actually on better terms, Taeyong would force them to talk about it until their problems were solved. But this isn’t something they can talk about and mend in one conversation, maybe not even in a few. Jaehyun’s pretty sure that he doesn’t even want to fix it. He just wants Taeyong to go back to the city and leave him alone.

“Fine,” Taeyong says. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Good.”

Awkward tension passes between them. Jaehyun, without any more words, stands there, waiting for Taeyong to make another move. Finally, he inches backward, appearing a bit unsure of what to do, as well.

“Right, well. I’ll, um, go then. I just wanted to make sure we had an understanding. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jaehyun says nothing as Taeyong turns and walks out the gym. The bell dingles as he goes.

The second he’s out of sight, his body deflates. He has to steady himself against the wall as he breathes in deep, heart aching in his chest.

It’s moments like these, Jaehyun almost wishes he had never met Taeyong, never held onto him with so much hope and want. It only brought him heartbreak and a fucked-up life. And after the last few weeks, after finally feeling good again, he wishes it even more after what just happened.

A hand lands between his shoulder blades. Johnny asks, “Hey, you okay?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “No. I’m not.”

“Come on. I’ve got chocolate in my office and you’re welcome to it.”

Glancing up, he lifts his lips in a tired smile. “Thanks.”

“Whatever you need. But let’s get you to the showers first, yeah?”

Gingerly, he bends down to pick up his bag and follow Johnny to the change rooms where he can shower and make himself presentable. Much to his annoyance, he spends the majority of that time kicking himself for falling into the trap of unravelling himself in front of Taeyong. God, he wishes he hadn’t done that, hadn’t made himself look so pathetic.

And, now, he has to face Taeyong for however long the team runs for. Every Tuesday and Thursday, every game in the tournament.

Yeah, his life really does suck.

*

Between cheer and baseball, Jeno is exhausted. Not to mention, he had already done cheer practice this morning. Now, he’s with everyone once again at the end of the day, feeling as if his body is about to give out just because Eunji decided they needed more practice.

The worst part about it is that Eunji has done nothing but yell at them the whole time. While she’s joined them maybe twice, that hasn’t stopped her from shouting out flaws to everyone around her. Including Jeno, who just can’t seem to focus even if he forces himself to. He thinks that maybe if he wasn’t so tired, he could manage it.

Of course, it’s not like he’s doing it wrong. He has these routines imbedded in his head by now that he’s pretty sure he could do them in his sleep. But Eunji wants awareness, extra joy, extra smiles. He just doesn’t think he can do that.

Somedays, especially days like today, he wonders why he even does it anymore. Eunji isn’t making it fun like it used to be. Now, it’s just a pain. And it’s even more of a pain physically while he’s doing baseball.

Not that he blames baseball or anything. In fact, as much as he’s terrified of the ball and still doesn’t understand all the rules, he still enjoys it. It’s the one thing all his friends can do together. Plus, they’re working toward something, supporting each other while they do it. Jeno likes that. A lot. With cheer, he has friends, but it isn’t the same, and none of them really seem keen to keep going like the baseball team does.

“What the fuck is going on with you all?” Eunji shouts from the front. “We have a game on the fourth and I need you all to get your acts together. This is pitiful!”

Jeno, hands on his knees and panting, looks to Dejun. He looks just as winded as Jeno feels. “Wait. Did she just say the fourth?”

“Yeah, we have the cheer-off before the hockey team goes for their game, remember?” He furrows his thick brows. “Why?”

Oh crap. Oh shit. Jeno stares at the grass. The baseball team’s first game is on the fourth. He should have known something like this would happen. Luck is never on his side when he needs it.

There’s no way he can do both, unless by some miracle they get picked as one of the first teams to play Saturday morning and he can race back across town for the cheer-off. There’s no way Eunji is going to let him not be there. Cheer-offs are always more important than cheering during an actual game. With Hockey, they can’t be in the rink to perform, which means they have to do it before the game. They set the tone. If they aren’t perfect, it ruins everything.

If he remembers correctly, baseball games are about three hours and the first timeslot is ten o’clock. If they can manage that by some force of sheer dumb luck, Jeno might be safe. In the meantime, he’s going to have to talk to Eunji about it and, _god_ , he really doesn’t want to talk to Eunji about anything these days. She’s turned into an utter nightmare.

“From the top! Dejun, Jeno, will you pay attention and do what I’ve asked you to do for fuck’s sake?” Eunji snaps before stomping over to the speaker to start the music again.

Dejun mutters on his way past, “One day, karma is going to bite her in the ass and I’m not going to be there to help.”

It sounds mean, but Jeno sort of hopes that happens.

The squad starts again, for the sixth time, and Jeno can feel the lack of enthusiasm before any of them even take a step. The smiles are so fake it’s ridiculous. Eunji barks orders, shouts at people when they’re falling behind even just a smidge. They’re a good team and they know what they’re doing, but this is destroying them.

By the time they’ve ended, Eunji is pink in the face from yelling. She jabs her finger at her phone to cut of the music. “You’re horrible! You’re all fucking horrible! What the fuck was that? You know what, we’re having a practice tomorrow morning—” The group swells in groans and mumbles. “I don’t care what you all think. Do you want to be good or do you want to be the laughingstocks of this entire town? We’re Champions! Start acting like it! Now, get out of my sight.”

“Do you think she’ll have an aneurism?” one of the girl’s asks. “She was yelling so hard that her forehead veins were popping out. That can’t be healthy.”

“This obsessing can’t be healthy,” someone replies from behind Jeno.

Dejun drops down next to his bag. “I can’t feel my legs.”

That’s something Jeno understands deeply. His arms are killing him, his legs feel like jelly, and he would really love a nap. That would be amazing.

Tiredly, he swings his bag over his shoulder and uses one of the smaller towels to wipe at the sweat threatening to drip into his eyes. Eunji is with several of the girls. None of them seem happy, really, and Jeno’s pretty sure even her friends are starting to get upset with her.

Jeno knows it can’t be easy being cheer captain with so much expectation and most of your friends on the squad, but Eunji needs to relax if she wants to stay on everyone’s good side. Or maybe she doesn’t care, he ponders. It’s a possibility.

His steps are hesitant as he walks over to her. She waves a hand at one of the girls and makes a face, hardly caring that she’s just upsetting people further by not reacting nicely.

“Um, Eunji,” he says, “can I talk to you?”

Her ponytail swings as she turns to face him. “Oh, Jeno. Is this about your poor performance today? Honestly, I expected so much more from someone who’s been on the team for three years.”

The jab hurts a little. Jeno isn’t a slacker. He never has been. He does what he can, he shows up to the practices, he goes over the routines in his own time. He tries his hardest and Eunji makes him feel like he isn’t doing enough.

“I’ve just been tired,” he says.

“We’re all tired, Jeno,” she tells him, hands on her hips. “That’s no excuse. You need to be giving a hundred and ten percent and you’re not.”

He shuffles his feet. “I’m giving what I can. Things have been a bit hectic lately. I’ll get it down, though. You know I will.”

“I sure hope so. I don’t want to see that sloppy performance on game day.”

Ignoring her second jab, he says, “Actually, I needed to talk to you about game day. Um, the baseball team starts their tournament that day.”

Eunji narrows her eyes. “You’re still on that whole baseball thing? God, Jeno, just ditch that. You guys aren’t going to win, anyway.”

“It’s important to Mark.”

“Yeah, well, Mark doesn’t cheer. You do.” She shakes her head. “Jeno, you’re going to have to pick between the two. And I would suggest you pick sooner rather than later because I’m not going to put up with this shit for much longer. Show up at the game, Jeno, if you want to still cheer. If you don’t show up, you’re out.”

Nodding, he says, “Y-Yeah, I will. I’ll be there.”

He leaves without another word. Crap, he’s going to have to figure out a way to make this work. If they play early enough, he has time to go across town. If they play late…Well, he’s going to have to figure it out because he doesn’t want to stop cheering. Even if Eunji is horrible most—if not all—days.

He’s about to head to the bus stop when he slams into another body. Hands grip his arms to keep him steady.

“Whoa,” Jaemin says. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”

“Tired,” he replies. “Why are you here?”

Gesturing toward the school, he says, “I waited for you. Been studying in the library for the last couple of hours.”

“I told you to go home.”

“You did and I didn’t listen. You know I always wait for you when you have after school practices. Today isn’t any different.” He checks Jeno over before wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“We have a cheer-off on the same day as our first game,” Jeno mutters, eyelids dropping. Now that he doesn’t need to focus on flips or dances, his body severely wants to crash. As they walk, he rests his head on Jaemin’s shoulder, despite how awkward it is.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jaemin whispers. “Don’t worry.”

“Eunji hates me.”

“Eunji hates everyone.”

He coughs a laugh. “Lately, it sure seems like it. Nana, I don’t want to give up cheer.”

Coming to a halt at the bus stop, Jaemin reaches up to run his fingers through Jeno’s hair. It’s soothing and he finds himself pressing closer.

“Don’t worry,” he repeats. “You just rest. We’ve got time to figure it out.”

He nods and closes his eyes. He sure hopes so. Because if he doesn’t, he’s off the squad for sure. Except, as he lays against Jaemin’s shoulder, waiting for the bus to arrive, he’s starting to think that might not be such a bad idea. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to talk to me on  
> [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/DiamantNoir)  
> And I'm @dooly_noted on Twitter (Though I don't post much. I'll probably just use it to update when things will be updated)


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